


It's A Fox Thing

by SilverStripes



Series: It's A Fox Thing [1]
Category: Caravan Palace (Band), Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-08 07:19:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 83,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10381479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverStripes/pseuds/SilverStripes
Summary: It's been several months since the Night Howler conspiracy, and Nick and Judy are just starting to become more than partners.  But when a drug-fueled brawl at the Lone Digger nightclub turns deadly, discrimination against predators worsens, and Nick begins to wonder if he and Judy could truly work as a couple.





	1. Dinner Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Contains R-rated depictions of violence and adult humor. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are the property of Disney.

_“Khan!” Gazelle gasped, gripping the remains of her cherry-red top. The backup dancer cornered her, a red glint in his feline eyes. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but it was a sound unlike anything Gazelle had heard before. It was deep. Primal. The sort of thing you'd hear in a prehistoric documentary. And then she knew from the burning need in his gaze... Khan had gone savage._

  _“Oh no, Khan please...” she begged softly. Was he going to eat her? Would he start with a bite? Another swipe of his claws? Those talons would shred into her as easily as they'd torn her blouse. Heart racing, terrified, she put up a trembling arm to try to protect her throat, and tried darting off to the side._

 _Gazelle let out a sharp cry, hoping that one of her other tigers could hear it._ Luke? Caden? Oh Danny, please! Please save me! _But Khan snatched her by the arm and threw her roughly against the couch cushions, pressing her firmly into the velvet. His nails dug into her flesh, and the muscular weight of his body bore down on her hindquarters._

_She was still trembling when Khan leaned in, and his growl took on a different timbre. There was a heat to it, a desire. Something different from hunger or rage. A warm, rough tongue slid along the length of her elegant neck, his breath was hot and humid against her fur. A wild tingle began to ran through her too._

_“Oh Khan...” she gasped, not out of fear this time, but eager anticipation. It would've been a lie to say that she'd never thought about this... how many times had she watched her lovely boys practice, watched them stretch and twirl, striped tails trailing behind them, in that lean and graceful way you could only ever see in a pred? Their patterned fur overlaid rippling muscles. Glitter dusted them along muzzles and shoulders and along broad, bare chests. Their slashed shorts would glimmer with sequins, coyly hiding the firmness that lay beneath._

_Gazelle gasped, heart still fluttering with a trace of fear, when Khan's thick, meaty paw ran down the side of her body and cupped her-_

 

“HEY QUIT THUMPING OVER THERE!”

 Judy let out a gasp, slamming her laptop shut as Pronk's voice boomed through the paper-thin wall. The framed photos of her family rattled against the wallpaper at his shouting. Well, it could've been Bucky. It was hard to tell the two apart when they started up like this.

 She pressed her foot against the leg of her chair to keep it from hammering into the floor, and clapped her paws to her mouth in embarrassment. Her nose was twitching, and her foot spasmed with the reflexive urge to keep thumping. Oh sweet cheese and crackers she hoped her neighbors didn't figure out what she was doing.

 She'd just come back home, still buzzing with the afterglow of the concert and the pint of carrot beer Nick had treated her to at the bar. After changing she'd thought to settle in and look up Gazelle's new album on Zoogle, but well... somehow she'd wandered into a little corner of the web she hadn't been to before. At first she was just curious about the predophile fanfic, in that slightly morbid fascination kinda way. But after chuckling and shaking her head at the first few ( _really_ badly written) entries she felt herself drawn into one titled “Tiger Tiger, Burning Bright.”

 For a moment she thought about opening her laptop back up and finishing it, see how the story ended. Suddenly self-conscious though she didn't think she could look at it quite the same way now. It'd probably be better to just close the window and scrub her browser history. Yeah that's-

 Her cellphone rang.

 Judy fumbled for it so badly that she nearly dropped it, but caught the profile photo of Nick and his smug little grin staring back at her as she swiped to accept the call.

 “ _Hey Carrots, I thought you were gonna text me when you got home?_ ” She caught a hint of Nick's sleepy yawn on the other end.

 “Oh, ha! Sorry I just... um...”

 “ _You go running or something?_ ”

 Judy was breathing heavily, though it was only partly because she'd been caught unaware twice now. She laughed nervously. “Ha ha! Yeah, I... yeah. Just went for a late night run. Nothing like a few laps around the block to help you sleep at night! Woo!”

 “ _You sure that's safe? Your neighborhood's a little..._ ”

 “I can take care of myself, Nick. Besides it's not like your place is uptown Savannah Central.”

 “ _Yeah well I've got ten years of street smarts on you, sweetheart_ ,” Nick said dryly, “ _But listen, I was thinking maybe we could treat Benjy to dinner on Friday. You know, thank him for the concert tickets._ ”

 “Oh. Oh sure! Got an idea for where?”

 “ _Yeah there's this burger place downtown. Giraffa's Grille._ ”

 Judy opened up her laptop and looked it up quickly, skipping over the browser tab that was still open. As much as she trusted Nick in everything else, he was usually more comfortable around the slummy areas of the city, and that just wouldn't do. It was a pleasant surprise to see Giraffa's located in a nice, well-lit neighborhood with clean storefronts and rows of palm trees. There was even a bookstore sandwiched between a gelato place and a coffee shop. The restaurant was way more upscale than Bug-Burga or the deli next to the station and had plenty of herbivore options. Quinoa and spinach patties, basil and tomato sauce on truffle polenta...

 “Wow, Nick. How'd you find this place?”

 “ _You should realize by now, Carrots. I know everybody, and that includes some of the best restaurant owners in town. So it sound good then?_ ”

 “Great! Is Benjy bringing anyone?”

 “ _Well you know the rumors between him and the guys he gets on stage with..._ ”

 “Oh stop it, Nick. He says it's his twin brother.”

 “ _Uh huh. One that no one in the precinct has ever seen or heard of. Plus every time a tiger that looks exactly like him comes onstage he's off duty and nowhere to be seen._ ”

 “I can't believe it. The guy's too straight-laced.” It was no exaggeration. Benjy Kaplan never spoke much. He usually kept his head down, focused on his work while nursing a cup of black coffee. He had a perpetually bored look on his face and rarely cracked a smile, and always did things by the book. But then again he did seem to spend most of his free time at the department gym on his own. At first Judy thought it was just him being a fitness buff, or simple vanity, but if he needed to stay in shape to perform onstage...

 “ _It's all just an act to throw us off the trail_ ,” said Nick. “ _I mean, imagine what the Chief would say if they caught him moonlighting as a stripper._ ”

 “Backup dancer,” Judy corrected. It couldn't be. It'd be the worst lie ever, for one. After all, if the Chief hadn't bought the twin explanation, after a quick look on Ewetube Benjy would've been stuck in Records next to the boiler room until he retired.

  _“Tell you what, Carrots. Let's make a bet on this. If he can bring this twin brother of his to dinner, I'll cover the drinks. He doesn't, it's all on your tab._ ”

 Judy hesitated. She could hear the smugness in Nick's voice, and whenever he got like this she could never back down.

 “Deal,” she said with a wince. Judy just hoped she was right, and that she didn't just put her humiliation on layaway this time.

  

~~~~~ 

 

The flick of a lighter cast a warm glow over the panther's muzzle. 

“Pass that over here, will you?”

 Cal took a few puffs of the catnip joint before passing it to Oliver. Curls of blue-gray smoke curled from the tip. The air at the Pack Street stop always tasted sweet: moist and lush from the Rainforest District just beyond the wall.

 It was chilly though, and Cal pulled his varsity jacket tight.

 “You guys have no culture,” said Milo, clicking his tongue. “That's primo nip right there. You gotta appreciate the aroma before you light up. Kinda... lemony and grassy. Real sweet.”

 “Dude, shut up. We're gonna get all the culture we need tonight.” Cal growled. Typical Milo. The guy could be so stuck-up. Unlike him or Oliver, Milo had grown up in the midtown part of the Rainforest District. His parents tried so hard to be classy: going to the community theater every couple months, brand name clothes, daily trips to Snarlbucks. Fact is it didn't fool anyone. Cal could smell the desperation on 'em, as if five-dollar cups of coffee could cover up the stink of the slums they'd clawed out of. Good thing Milo had him and Oliver to keep him grounded. Once a slum cat, always a slum cat. It was best to keep that in mind.

 “How's the shoulder?” asked Oliver.

 “Feels fine. Told ya bro, didn't feel a thing. Hornsby though...”

 “Dude, that was AWESOME!” Milo belted out, laughing. “His eyes went wide as dinner plates, man! Sure as fuck didn't expect to get slammed like that!”

 Even though it was the umpteenth time he'd heard it, Cal still basked in the praise as they continued down the street. Fact is, no one expected the brutal pileup of three cats on the Rough Riders' star quarterback five minutes into the game. Each of them was maybe a fifth of Hornsby's weight. Yet when the dust settled, the three of them got back up, and Hornsby had to be carried out on a stretcher. The Riders' game never recovered.

Cal had barely even felt the impact. His instincts had taken over, and for a moment every one of his senses had seemed sharper than before. He could smell the fresh-cut grass more keenly, feel the muted vibrations of Hornsby's pounding strides through his own paws. His heart was drumming in his ears, the blood was hot in his veins. For a moment he'd gone down on all fours, and he was amazed at how the wind felt in his exposed fur when he ran like that. And then came the pounce, the impact, the feeling of his body slamming against hard, fleshy weight. In that instant he'd felt the urge to use his claws.

Cal grinned to himself, remembering the shocked looks on the remaining Rough Riders when he got up. Shock and fear, and the hope for an unbroken series of wins draining from their eyes. God that was such a sweet moment... hopefully someone caught it on camera. He never knew how exciting it was to see fear.

Cal's paw slid into his pocket then, and pulled out a small plastic case the size of his thumb. Popping it open revealed the small paper-thin tabs, each taking on a turquoise glow in the dim yellow light of the streetlamps.

 “Dude, shouldn't you save those for the next game?” Oliver asked, coughing a bit. Puffs of smoke blew from his nostrils as he passed the joint to Milo, but neither he nor Milo seemed as interested in the catnip now.

 “Relax, I still got another case. Plus my guy's pretty reliable.” Pulling out one of the tabs he laid it on his tongue. It dissolved instantly, releasing a faint sweetness that reminded him of licorice. The familiar tingle hit him then, spreading through his mouth and blooming along his scalp. He gave an involuntary shiver as it crackled down his spine, and like a bolt of lightning on a moonless night, it lit up his senses.

 His heartbeat quickened. He clenched one paw, then the other, feeling the raw strength that was flowing into every muscle fiber. The sensation burned through him in a flush of prickling heat, lighting up every nerve in his body.

 Thanks to the Blue the three of them had been MVPs that day, and that meant star treatment. The other players had traded paw-bumps in the locker room and slapped their asses playfully in the showers, and when they got out with their fur still damp and the steam curling from their bodies, there were the cheerleaders lined up and blushing.

 Naturally, Cal got first pick.

 It didn't matter that the other guys were hooting and hollering and cheering them on. It didn't matter that they were yelling bawdy suggestions about what he should be doing with his paws or tail or tongue. It didn't even matter that Milo... awkward, virgin Milo, was flustered and kept looking at him, as if for guidance. He'd never felt so _alive_.

 “Yo, Cal. Gimme one of those too,” Oliver said, nudging him in the ribs.

 Cal grinned and let him take a slip of Blue. He and Oliver had known each other since they were kittens. They'd slept over at each others' houses, hung out after school, swiped booze and even experimented a bit in their teens. The guy didn't even need to ask

 “Can I?” asked Milo. He leaned in, grinning, and eager glint in his eyes.

 “What about that 'primo nip' you got there?” Cal teased, nodding at the joint in Milo's paw. With the Blue pumping through him he felt a bit more mischievous. More butch. God, this guy really was a hanger-on wasn't he? The fastest runner on the team sure, but right now with the buzz running through Cal's veins Milo looked so damn _small_.

 “Well, I-I just...” Milo fumbled.

 “I'm just fuckin' with ya, man,” Cal laughed, letting him take a slip too. Just in time, he quickly tucked it back into his pocket as a tiger in a sleeveless hoodie and shorts walked past them. Dude was pretty stacked, probably a cop. Then again, if anything went wrong the three of them could've taken Stripey down easily.

 Just like they did to Hornsby.

 The club's neon sign glowed steadily, silver-blue with the outline of a female antelope pole-dancing in hot pink on the side. It was just on the edge of the newly gentrified district, on the tail end of the rows of restaurants and boutiques. They could hear the commotion of the Friday night crowd, but the club's entrance was along the back alley. Just enough discretion for its patrons.

 Sure, the girls they'd bred just last night had worked out some of their urges, but there was nothing like another bit of sweetness as a chaser. Especially when it came to the lush, more developed gals that worked at the Lone Digger.

 The bouncer was a thickly built buffalo that towered over the three of them. Cal flashed his best shit-eating grin. The bouncer grunted, the breath steaming out of his nostrils in the cold night air. They passed over their IDs and the entrance fee for each of 'em. The Lone Digger was notoriously easy to get into: they hired bouncers for muscle, not their eyesight. For a moment the buffalo squinted at the IDs. Cal tensed, trying to keep his tail from flicking back and forth.

 “You kids must think I'm a fucking idiot.”

 “Wh-” Cal started. His tail was standing straight out now, and his fur was standing on end.

 “Oh, r-right...” Oliver said quickly, holding out another fifty. “Forgot to cover me, yeah?”

 Without a word the bouncer plucked the bill from Oliver's paw, tucking it smoothly into the pocket of his vest. Standing up straight he returned the IDs to the trio.

 “I might not be able to read without glasses, but I'm not fucking blind. Next time you numskulls use a fake ID, leave the varsity jackets at home.”

 The three tucked their ears down and chuckled awkwardly as they entered the club.

 Cal had heard the thrum of the music from outside, but now it was a thick bass rhythm that seemed to drum against his chest and vibrate through the pawpads of his feet. Then there was the smell: sweat and booze and cheap cologne. For some mammals it was the smell of a night that'd gone on too long, stretched as thin as their wallets. For Cal and his boys though, it was the smell of the forbidden.

 On the stage in the middle of the club was an antelope, stripped down to the fur and dressed only in a slim thong and a pair of pasties on her tits. Cal tried not to gawk. He'd seen more cotton in the top of an aspirin bottle. He normally wasn't the kinda cat to be into prey girls or anything, but with Gazelle topping the lists loads of guys his age have gotten curious. Probably the exact reason why the club owner hired an antelope in fact. Plus if it was a guy into a prey lady, well... that wasn't so bad.

 She twisted and bucked to the rhythm that ran through Cal like a second heartbeat. The antelope cupped herself, stroking her chest and down between her legs. Her slim body turned and swayed and her plump hindquarters shook with a lush weightiness in the motions. Cal swallowed, he was salivating so much. Giving Oliver and Milo a nudge though he pulled himself away and sat down at a nearby table to admire the show.

 The zebra waitress that passed by took down their order. Cal's eyes slid along her hindquarters as she turned and left. Man, what is it about prey and their asses? Oliver once mused that because it was the thing that predators stared at when they chased prey down in the old days, that's what got preds so excited. It made sense, though the Lone Digger really seemed to be trying hard to turn their straight pred clientele with their selection of service staff.

 It was then that Cal noticed the three patrons staring at him and his crew from the other table. Their coats were patterned black and brown, sleeker than your standard timber wolf. Egyptian wolves, probably, not that common around these parts. And unlike the other clientele in their rumpled and beer-stained retail outlet shirts the wolves were dressed in tight, clean business suits. One of them panted in the cramped heat of the club, another nursed his drink. The third took a long drag on a cigarette, and blew a thick smoke ring as he leveled an icy stare straight at Cal.

 Without a word the wolf took a case out of his pocket and flicked it open. Pulling the cigarette from his muzzle he pushed up a small blue tab from the case and laid it on his tongue.

 Cal laid his ears back. He could feel the fur prickling at the back of his neck. Oliver let out a low growl, and even Milo's muzzle was scrunched up in suspicion.

 The waitress returned just in time, apparently not noticing the hostility crackling between the two tables. Setting down three empty shot glasses she filled them with milk. It was the real stuff, not that soy or almond herbivore shit. Putting the wolves out of his mind, Cal took a nice long look at the zebra's rack just as Oliver told her to leave the carafe. He imagined how much more sweet and warm it'd be if he could suck it straight from the tap.

 For a while the trio tossed back their shots, purring at the creamy richness playing over their tongues. Before their eyes the antelope continued to gyrate, sweat beading on her lush curves. Her fur appeared violet in the blue and purple lights. She looked all the more exotic for it, like a creature dancing in a mystic forest from another world.

 The pulse was pounding in Cal's ears. The music was hammering through every inch of his body. The taste of milk was thick on his tongue, the smell of it rich and nourishing. He felt so _alive_ in this moment, with the trailing buzz of catnip still in him, the tingle of Blue lighting up every neuron in his brain, and the half-naked antelope dancing, neon lights playing over her sweaty body like the tongues of a dozen horny cats.

 He shivered then, starting to feel hot down there. Dipping his paw below the table he knocked back the last of the milk, and started to feel himself through his pants...

 When the waitress returned with another order of milk on a tray, one of the wolves from the next table stuck his leg out.

 She didn't even have a chance to cry out when she fell. The tray flew from her hooves, and time slowed to a crawl as the fresh carafe and three filled shot glasses spun, milk stretching into pearly crescents in the air.

 It splashed the three cats square in the muzzles and sprayed over their varsity jackets.

 Icy milk crawled down Cal's nose. His ears flattened as the smoldering tension in him burst into a white-hot flame.

 “What the FUCK?!” he snarled, throwing the table aside as he strode over to the wolves. They were standing up now too, glaring down at him with yellow eyes. They stank of smoke and whiskey and expensive cologne.

 “I don't like the way you fucking smell, kitty.”

 “Don't call me 'kitty,' shit-for-brains!”

 The wolf took another long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke in Cal's face. He was seeing red now... the edges of his vision were tinged with a bloody fog. There was the acrid stench of smoke, the pungent stink of canine, the club's music beating through his body, the taste of milk clinging to his tongue and cold rivulets trickling along the collar of his shirt.

 “I'll call you whatever the fuck I want, kitty. You look like you're barely off your mother's tit. You want milk, you crawl back home, curl up in her arm, and suck it straight from her-”

 Cal didn't give him a chance to finish. In a flash of sudden, violent rage his claws were out, and he slashed three long gouges across the wolf's neck. Thick streaks of blood cut through the air, and the wolf let out a harsh gurgle as he fell to the dancefloor, spasming and gagging as he died.

 In an instant another wolf flew from his seat and leaped over the table, knocking Cal to the ground. Cal snarled, twisting away as the lupine's jaws tried to snap down and take out a hunk of his face, but those daggerlike teeth caught on to an ear instead. The wolf twisted, snarling as he ripped that fuzzy wedge from Cal's scalp.

 Screams erupted from all around them, but in the midst of it the antelope continued to dance. Soon, the blue and purple patterns lapping across her skin were interlaced with sprays of blood.


	2. Nick's Sleepless Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner with Benjy, the Lone Digger, and Nick is reminded of what happens when a fox and a rabbit get too close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains R-rated depictions of violence and adult humor. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are the property of Disney.

It really was nice to see Judy in casual clothes.

Nick had gotten to know her best when she was in uniform. It was what she was wearing when he first met her, and it was what he saw her in every day when they worked the beat. Thing is, she wore it a little _too_ well... she knew every rule and regulation like the back of her paw, and when they worked the streets she could get so focused on the job. At first it was hard to look past the cute fuzzy bunny and see the actual cop, but after working together these past few months it was hard to recognize Judy beyond the uniform. So it was nice to see her when she was letting her ears down for the night: flannel shirt, tight jeans. The bunny just needed a straw hat and she'd look like she was fresh outta the farmhouse.

It was still an adjustment for Nick though. This wasn't the kind of place he would've normally taken her to back in the day. Before he met Judy he had a taste for seedier establishments. After a particularly good hustle he and Finnick would usually traipse through the red light districts, sharing a bottle of cheap whiskey between them. In the nightclubs he'd dandle a vixen in his lap and nuzzle against her chest, she'd tug his tie loose and unbutton his shirt.

He'd wake up in the morning with a nasty hangover and a lighter wallet, and after a cold shower and the taste of burnt coffee in his mouth he'd have to start thinking about his next con job. Sure it was a hardscrabble existence, moving from one hustle to the next with drunken bacchanals in between, but it at least it was exciting. Now it was all assignments and schedules and thinking about how much to put in his 401K and all that other planning stuff he just wasn't used to.

 _You're getting old, Nick_... he thought to himself. Still, it wasn't that bad, this whole clean living thing. He had a great friend beside him, an actual career, and when he was in uniform the other mammals wouldn't look at him like he was something that'd crawled out of the gutter just because he was a fox.

“What _is_ polenta anyway?” Judy asked, flipping through the menu.

“Corn meal porridge basically. It's good stuff.” Nick smirked. It was one of the little things he carried with him from his former profession: a con man had to be in the know about every little corner of the city, move as smoothly as he could through the social niches he usually worked in. Granted, the Jungle Row wasn't really the kind of place he'd find himself in on a Friday night. A little too clean and gentrified for him. But it was just a few blocks down from Pack Street, so it was in familiar territory at least. Plus he knew from personal experience that the fish here was out of this world.

Ah the things he would get to show this small-town farmgirl. Even after living in Zootopia for close to a year she hadn't been able to see much of the city. Her police academy days had left her too busy to explore, and she worked so hard to prove herself at her job that she'd been living off of microwave dinners and cafeteria food until now.

Even browsing the grocery stores with him was a treat, particularly to see all the more exotic fruits and vegetables they didn't grow in Bunnyburrow. Just last week she'd gotten her first taste of mango at a smoothie stand in Sahara Square. An even match for the blueberries from her family's farm, she'd said with a happy gleam in her eyes.

“What do you think you'll get?” Judy asked.

“Smoked Grub Deluxe Burger.” Nick tried to stick to a vegetarian diet for the most part, but occasions like this allowed for a little indulgence.  Nice rich hickory-smoked grub patty with a slice of cheese and a real fried egg? Yes, please.

“How do you eat that anyway? Processed bug protein always seemed like it'd be so... slimy.”

“And yet it's so satisfying.”

“I think I'll just stick to the herbivore options,” Judy said, wrinkling her nose ever so slightly as she returned to browsing the menu. “Er, no offense or anything.”

“Eh, you know what they say. Hakuna matata.”

“Oh wow the mango mousse sounds pretty good...” Judy said, and Nick made a mental note that it was starting to become her new favorite.

And then she pulled his arm into hers. Nick could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. Bunnies were much more touchy than foxes. They had to be. With hundreds crammed under one roof having boundaries would've grated as much as a pawful of sand in your briefs. Suddenly feeling her paw on his, or her arms wrapping around him in a quick hug wasn't a bad thing. Far from it. It was just something he wasn't used to.

Nick was awkwardly mulling over how to respond when he saw a familiar figure tromping down the sidewalk.

Benjy Kaplan was probably one of the biggest hunks of feline muscle on the force. He had a two-hour gym regimen every day, and half his diet seemed to be composed of coffee and protein shakes. He was about as stacked as Chief Bogo, broad-shouldered with paws that looked like they could crush melons. Rumor had it that he could stand toe-to-toe with a rhino in the sparring ring. He was always levelheaded though, calm and collected. It was a little strange seeing him in civvies, but the jeans, t-shirt, and open button-up shirt he wore over it suited him. Very... low-key. Neat and clean, but low-key. Nick supposed that Benjy had to be, if his hunch was right.

The tiger next to him, Nick was glad to see, wasn't his twin after all. A little older and taller, he was just a bit more lithe and walked with a swish in his step, tail flicking back and forth. It clicked then, that the guy was a dancer from the way he moved. As they got closer, Nick could see the specks of glitter still clinging to the guy's muzzle. Too hard to comb it all out of your fur, he supposed. Slap a pair of sequined shorts on the both of them and they'd be instantly recognizable.

“I knew it,” Nick grinned, looking down at the rabbit still holding his arm. “Looks like you're covering the drinks tonight, Carrots.”

Judy let out a groan as Benjy waved at them.

“Hopps, Wilde,” he said with a faint smile. “This is Luke. You might recognize him.”

“Hi,” Luke said with a grin. “I hear you saw me on stage last week. You enjoy the show?”

“It was great! It as my first concert, actually!” Judy said, perking up immediately. Nick couldn't help but prickle a bit with how warm her tone had gotten all of a sudden. With her it was always genuine. Wearing a fake grin for the sake of socializing just didn't come naturally to country bumpkins like Hopps. Nick moved his arm in what he hoped was a subtle manner, interlocking into hers so she wouldn't let go and start nuzzling up to the tiger instead.

“Soooo Benjyyy...” Nick drawled. “I don't suppose there's something you want to confess right now?”

“Why?” someone purred from right behind them. “Someone make a bet?”

Nick and Judy spun around suddenly, letting go of their hold on each other to see another tiger grinning down on the both of them. He'd actually approached from downwind so Nick couldn't smell him sneaking up on them. The guy was the spitting image of Benjy, but when he looked at his fellow officer and back he noticed that the guy was actually a touch slimmer in his tank top and sleeveless hoodie, and he held himself with that same balanced poise that Luke did. And again, the traces of glitter still stuck to the fur around his muzzle, just only noticeable for someone who was looking for it. He had a fairly deep lisp too, and unlike Benjy he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Danny Kaplan,” he said, extending a paw. “Sooo I finally get to meet the famous Officers Hopps and Wilde huh?”

“I knew it!” Judy said with a delighted squeak, taking his passive paw in both of her own. She bounced on her toes. “Benjy said he had a twin but no one believed him!”

“Well you know him, always a bit of a stick in the mud,” Danny said, sticking out his tongue like a five-year old cub. “Me, I've always loved twin pranks. Like, what's the point of having a twin bro otherwise? At least he plays along when I decide to pull one.”

“Wh- but...” Nick sputtered. Great. He knew damn well how much tigers could drink. “HOW? You guys couldn't have kept it up for this long without- no one's seen him around when you're onstage!”

“I only perform on the weekends, Slick Nick. Can I call you that? And those are his days to drive out to Catscreek to take care of our Gramma. She raised us y'know.” Danny said with a wink. “The rest of the time I let one of the stand-ins take my place. It's hilarious hearing about the shit Benjy has to go through at work.”

It was true. Nick had only been on the force for a short time, but he'd already overheard Benjy having to explain with strained patience that no, he did not moonlight as a backup dancer. Mostly to suspects who thought they'd recognized him. A few had even asked for his autograph. In fact, he _thought_ he saw one of the female lioness officers pinch him on the bottom once. The cat's ass would be a catalyst for a sexual harassment lawsuit someday.

“Don't suppose I can count on you two to keep this hush-hush?” Danny said, still grinning, “Can't make Benjy's life at the precinct too easy, after all. Keep up the con?”

Judy giggled. “Oh, definitely.”

“Hustle,” Nick mumbled. “It's called...”

Benjy let out a dissatisfied grunt.

Danny and Luke greeted one another with a tight hug, locking muzzles for a moment. The kiss was a little too long and a little too deep, even among boyfriends. Nick shifted awkwardly, tapping his foot and hoping that their seat number would be called soon.

“So... fox cop,” Danny said, pulling out of the impromptu snogging session with Luke, though they still had an arm around each others' shoulders. For a split-second Nick suddenly felt rather aware of the fact that Carrots wasn't clinging to him like she was before, and whether that meant anything. Or if it didn't mean anything. He wasn't sure what would've upset him more.

“Yep, that's me. First vulpine on the force,” Nick said, before he realized what Danny might've meant by that.

Benjy elbowed his brother in the ribs with a heavy thud. “Dude! Be cool!” he growled.

“Ngh! I didn't mean it _that_ way!” he said, pulling away from Luke completely so he could massage his side. “No it's just... it's really awesome, y'know? More diversity on the force and all. Can't just all be meatheads like my bro here. I mean what're the cops gonna do if another suspect tries escaping through Little Rodentia again?”

“Well you know, I bring a lot more to the force than my svelte figure,” Nick said dryly.

“It's true,” Judy piped up. “He knows the ins and outs of the city better than anyone. Whenever someone's stuck on a big case they can always turn to Nick for help.”

Nick smiled at his partner's vote of confidence. Well sure, he knew when to give a pointer here or there, occasionally he could find a contact. And he knew more about the inner workings of the criminal circles in the city than any other cop on the force. Plus even if he didn't have contacts in every district, usually he could find someone who did. Actually... thinking about it, he HAD been pretty damn useful. Hell, if he put his mind to it he and Judy could probably crack more cases than half the precinct put together.

Holy crap he really needed to ask for a raise.

“Number fifty-one, table for four!” the giraffe at the podium called. That was their number.

Giraffa's had a safari theme going for it. The wall murals were of warm yellow fields and flat savannas with broad, flat-topped trees. The checkered pattern of floor tiles resembled a giraffe's coat, and real elephant grass had been planted as dividers between the tables. The restaurant had even been built around a huge jackalberry tree, which towered thirty feet into the open air. Strings of lights and golden lanterns were hung between the branches. A dull bass thrum of music came from the nightclub next door.

With Judy and Nick sharing a seat it was no problem for the waitress to fit in the tiger trio and make it a table for five. Ordering was a simple affair as well. Danny and Luke were regulars at Giraffa's, and knew what they wanted, while Benjy picked the first thing that caught his interest. Plus Nick and Judy had been browsing the menu while they waited.

“So, you two are getting pretty popular, I bet,” Luke grinned. “Cubs and kits see you on TV, they probably think you're the coolest thing ever. Wouldn't be surprised if we got our first mouse cops next.”

“Would be nice for them to get Little Rodentia tied into the system. They operate entirely on community policing there,” Benjy nodded, sipping his iced tea.

“Heh, I know plenty of adult bunnies who'd love to take on your role,” Danny winked.

“Well if they ever need advice about entering the Academy, I'd always be happy to give 'em pointers,” Judy said cheerfully.

“He, uh... wasn't talking about that, Carrots,” Nick coughed.

Judy tilted her head curiously.

“Let's just say you'll want to keep the safesearch on when you Zoogle your own name.”

For a moment Judy just stared at him, when the realization dawned in her violet eyes. She clapped both paws to her mouth. Nick couldn't help but feel a little bad for her, even as he smirked. Poor Carrots. How she hadn't learned about Julie Hopper Takes In The Wolfpack by now was a wonder.

She tugged her ears down over her eyes. “Oh no no NO! I've got over sixty teenage siblings! _With laptops_!”

Danny laughed. “Aww don't worry, Judy. It isn't so bad.”

“Yeah the whole meme lasted like, a month. The actress doesn't even really look like you anyway,” Nick chuckled, though he coughed and looked away when she leveled an icy stare at them.

Thankfully, the drinks arrived just in time. Four passionfruit margaritas at Danny and Luke's suggestion, while Benjy just had an unsweetened iced tea. Judy probably could've curled up in the glass with room to spare. Good, she was probably gonna need that much booze.

“It really isn't so bad, Judy,” Danny continued. “Honestly, you should see all the crazy stuff that they make about us and Gazelle. Like, hardcore predo movies, fanart, photoshops... Hell one of my buddies just sent me a link to a story where Khan goes into this like, weirdly sexual version of savage.”

For some reason Judy's blush deepened even further at that.

“That's fucked up,” Benjy's nose wrinkled. “I mean it's only been a few months since the whole Savage Syndrome bullshit-”

“Night Howler Hoax,” Luke corrected. “It's more PC, dude.”

“Right well... it's just fucked up. Mammals died because of it. Or got mauled.”

“Hey I don't disagree there. Just sayin' though, the rest of the stuff... once you get used to it it's kinda flattering,” Danny winked at Nick then. “Personally I'm a little curious to see what the internet makes of our new up-and comer.”

And that was when Nick noticed that Luke and Danny were both staring at him like he was a hunk of meat they were both gonna share. Their tails were flicking back and forth in tandem, their mouths curled into sharp-toothed grins. Granted this wasn't the first time he'd been hit on by another male. He knew how to handle that well enough. Usually he'd just play along and tease them back... maybe lift their wallets while they were distracted. Two at once though...

“Easy there, boys,” Benjy said, setting his iced tea down. “Sorry about this Nick. My manwhore of a brother doesn't really understand boundaries.”

“Well at least he has a boyfriend to corrupt instead,” Nick smirked.

“Ha! This guy knows what's goin' on!” Luke laughed, “You know he didn't tell me he had a twin brother for weeks? One day I go over to his place and Benjy answers the door, and I throw my arms around his shoulders and kiss him instead. Got kinda weird when he didn't respond to me grabbing his ass.”

“Cleared things up before he could get my pants all the way off though,” Benjy chuckled.

“That time at least,” Luke winked suggestively.

At this point Judy was sipping on her margarita and glancing between the four of them as they spoke. A hint of pink was showing through her fur. Nick wondered whether it was from the embarrassment of having become a smut icon, the risque conversation, or the booze. A mix of it all, probably.

Suddenly, her ears perked up, and she turned away from the table.

“You guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” Nick turned and looked around. Nothing seemed unusual.

Judy put a paw on his muzzle and made a shushing noise. “I... I think it's from next door...”

Nick stood up, turning his head and trying to focus. Yeah... now that Carrots mentioned it he heard it too. Screams and howls, crashing furniture....

“We gotta go. Something's happening next door!” Judy said, pulling out her badge and flashing it to all the patrons in the restaurant.

“ZPD! Please stay in your seats!” she shouted as she bounced from the chair and darted toward the door. Nick followed suit,and Benjy was close behind.

Nick had known about the Lone Digger. He'd even visited a couple times back in his post-hustle nights when he and Finnick would paint the town red. It was a seedy little establishment that let guests in from the alley and repurposed the front doors as the emergency exits, so the more family-friendly businesses along Jungle Row wouldn't complain. Now though mammals were stumbling out, panting and crying for help, screaming incoherently about preds gone savage.

Though Judy was faster, she let Nick keep up with her as she ran. The two burst through the double doors to see a slaughter.

Several bodies littered the floor... a buffalo bouncer that Nick had been familiar with, his face a ruin and his forearms shredded in his attempts to defend himself. A ferret lay crushed beneath a table. One of the zebra waitresses lay on her side. And in the middle of it were four predators engaged in the most violent brawl Nick had ever seen. It was no wonder the fleeing patrons had thought they'd gone savage. They were clawing at each other like animals from the Stone Age, snapping and biting, heedless of their brutal injuries. Their eyes had that same mad glint Nick recalled seeing during the Night Howler debacle, and their shoulders were hunched over as if they were about to go on all fours. Blood seemed to coat them from head to tail.

 _Holy crap what were we thinking racing in here?_ Nick realized. He hadn't brought a sidearm! No dart gun, no taser. Not even any FoRep, as if that would've done anything!

That didn't stop Judy though.

She ricocheted between the walls and table like a fuzzy gray pinball. Paw-to-paw combat was a requirement at the academy... Nick hadn't been the best in his weight class, but Judy once took down a rhino by herself by being quick and clever about it. Best he could do was grab a chair and slowly move toward the brawlers, trying to get them to stop.

“Z-ZPD!” he shouted. “STOP WHERE YOU ARE!”

Nothing. Not a pause in the fighting, not even a blink. All of a sudden a gray blur streaked through the air and slammed into a panther's face, sending the both of them crashing to the ground.

“HE SAID STOP WHERE YOU ARE!” Judy shouted, but the perp simply rolled onto his paws and lunged at her instead. Eyes widening, suddenly realizing she might be outmatched, Judy darted away to draw the cat from the confused fray.

A second panther leaped out at Nick with an ear-splitting snarl, a primal sound that no modern cat should be able to make. He slashed at the chair Nick was holding, breaking one of the legs. Nick fell back, crying out as another swipe of the cat's massive paw shattered the rest of it to splinters.

Oh shit.

All of a sudden, a pair of burly striped arms grabbed the panther from behind. With a heave Benjy threw the feral cat over his shoulder, sending him crashing into one of the tables. On his back, the perp coiled his legs and kicked upward, slamming his feet into Benjy's chest and knocking him back a few feet before darting behind one of the couches.

“You okay Nick?” he said, not even panting. He rubbed his chest and winced.

“Y-yeah... I'm... I'm fine.” Physically at least. He was trembling from the tips of his ears down to his tail.

Lifting up his shirt Benjy reached behind his body, pulling out the concealed tranq gun he had and tossed it to Nick.

“Safety's on,” he said quickly, then rushed to stop the two wolves from tearing the other panther in half.

For a moment Nick stood there shocked that Benjy had brought a concealed weapon to dinner, but there was no time to mull over it now. He fumbled at the safety just as a cry came from behind him that chilled him to his bones.

“Nick!” Judy shouted. She scuttled under the tables as the cat Benjy had thrown chased her down, throwing aside furniture and lunging at her, fangs bared.

Raising the gun, paws still trembling, Nick fired.

Nick wasn't really suited for this kind of situation. Frankly, he'd gotten through the Academy mostly on his wits, and he was pretty sure that his performance on the Night Howler case gave him special dispensation on a few key checkpoints. He'd passed the bare minimum on his physical fitness tests in the academy. His ability to take down criminals larger than him wasn't much better. Even worse, his aim was only so-so at best.

Yet thankfully when he fired both tranq darts found their mark, lodging in the panther's chest. He swooned, stumbling through his charge, then collapsed to the floor in front of Nick.

“C-Carrots?” he panted. “Carrots?!”

“Here!” she called out. She was pinned under an overturned table. Nick rushed to help pull her out when the second cat bounded over a couch at her.

“NO!” Nick cried, shooting frantically.

The panther collapsed into a heap before it could sink its jaws into the Judy.

Nick rushed over to his partner, pulling her into a tight hug for a moment before dragging her behind one of the seats.

“You all right?” he panted, checking her for any wounds. No blood. That was good.

“Yeah,” she gasped. “Knocked me into a wall, just need... need to catch....”

“Right, rest up, I'm calling for backup.” Nick pulled out his phone, peeking over the back of the couch. Benjy was cornered, paws raised in a boxer's stance. One of his sleeves was torn, and he was bleeding from a line of gashes along one arm. The two wolves had teamed up against him now.

“ZPD, what is your emergency?” the operator asked.

“Officer Wilde. I'm with Hopps and Kaplan in the Lone Digger on Jungle Row, Downtown. There's a brawl in here and we need backup! Two perps confirmed down, at least another two are standing. Two black wolves!”

“Got it. Backup is already on the way,” the operator said. Nick hung up.

“You have any ammo left in that?” Judy asked, nodding at the tranq gun.

“It's empty,” Nick grunted. Best he could do now is pistol-whip one of the preds, and no way in hell was he doing that.

“We- we need to help him!” Judy said. For a moment she stumbled, as if partially paralyzed. Yet terrified as she was, her paws scraped against the floor and she once more darted out from their cover towards the fight.

Nick groaned.

 

~~~~~

 

It took a full twelve minutes for the ambulances and police cars to arrive. By then the remaining two predators had been subdued. Nick and Judy had been able to distract one wolf, and Benjy took the opportunity to nearly put the other one through a wall. He didn't go down easily, and was still snarling and kicking when the tiger slammed him to the ground and slapped a pair of cuffs on him. Without a spare set for the first one though, Nick had to scrounge up some plastic garbage bag ties from the nightclub's supply closet to bind his paws.

“Benjy!” Danny had sobbed when he saw his twin, roughed-up but still standing. He pulled his brother into a tearful hug. Luke had quietly pulled off his jacket and laid it around Nick and Judy, holding the two in a warm embrace to comfort them. Once the adrenaline wore off the real horror of what had just happened settled in.

There was the blood, the bodies, the still-warm entrails spilling out onto the dance floor. One of the few in the club who walked out from the slaughter was a trembling antelope, half-naked and terrified, too high on whatever she was on to really process what had happened.

Nick really needed to get drunk ASAP.

The officers on duty had taken over then, taking their statements while he ZMD on the scene helped patch up Benjy. He'd refused the offer to take him to the hospital... they were just flesh wounds, he'd claimed. He just needed them cleaned and stitched and bandaged up and he'd be fine.

They were all at ZPD headquarters now, filling out incident reports of their own while the details were still fresh. Not strictly necessary after having given their statements, but Judy liked to be thorough, and Benjy had agreed.

Nick hated paperwork, but slogged through it as best he could. He'd hoped that typing it out all clinical-like would've numbed him to the images he'd carried from the scene: the wolf with his throat torn out, glassy eyes staring past the ceiling. Or the panther with half his face torn off, lying in a pool of his own blood. The buffalo, who Nick had seen before on the occasions he visited the Lone Digger himself. They'd never said a word to each other, but the guy's opinion on foxes was clear from the glares he'd given, and Nick himself could never care much for bouncers. Still, they'd kind of sort of known one another, and seeing him dead, torn open by the attackers like it was a fucking nature documentary...

He stood in the shower now, letting the hot water cascade down on him. It felt good, trying to wash away what'd just happened. A lot of it seemed like a bad dream now. Hell, the whole incident was unreal. A bar fight he could understand. Predators going savage he'd seen himself. But this was some nightmarish scenario that was the worst of both.

He must've been enjoying the hot water and the steam for an hour, and when he stepped out Benjy was there in the locker room with a towel around his waist, scrubbing water out of his ears. The arm that was bandaged up was still dry.

“You okay there, big guy?” Nick asked.

“Yeah. Nurse gave me some painkillers and it's definitely helping,” he winced as he moved his arm though. “Still... don't suppose you could help dry my back?”

“Heh, you falling for me too?” Nick teased, but helped towel off the tiger's broad, stripey back.

“Nah. If there's anything going on between you and Hopps, I'm not gonna get in the middle of it.”

“We, uh...” Nick paused. Frankly, he wasn't sure what was going on between the two of them. Sure they had great chemistry as partners, and the teasing banter often got a little bit flirtatious. Plus there was also the way Judy would hold his arm or hug him. And when he hung out at her apartment for movie night they'd cuddle up occasionally. Nick had always felt a bit awkward there, chalking it up as a bunny thing. But he hadn't really minded.

But if they were in public, sometimes they'd catch other mammals staring at them if they got too close, noses wrinkling as if they smelled something awful. Judy would pull away when she noticed, and there'd be a moment of awkward silence between them before Nick could cut through it with a snarky comment.

It was all well and good for others to be preyophiles. Nick had known his share. But he'd always thought of himself as a straight fox. Besides, Judy was a good small-town girl. She wouldn't think of him like that...

Would she?

“Hey sorry, I didn't mean anything by it,” said Benjy. “None of my business anyway.”

“It's fine it's just... complicated.”

“Isn't it always?” Benjy gave one of those rare little smiles then, and started getting dressed. His shirt had been torn and bloodied, but it was standard practice to keep a spare set of clothes at the precinct for occasions such as this. “By the way, if you're hungry Danny and Luke picked up some sandwiches for us.”

In one of the conference rooms the five of them sat down, eating quietly. Nick could barely taste the fried and breaded fish or the tartar sauce, though he could tell it was a pretty decent quality sandwich. They'd picked up milkshakes too, plus a mango smoothie for Judy, and some vodka they'd snuck in to mix into their drinks. Everyone except Benjy did so... they needed to get at least a little smashed after what'd just happened. Nothing helped obliterate the memories of that brutal scene quite like boozeahol.

Nick felt a little guilty over the meal. It was supposed to be him treating Benjy and his pals, not the other way around. Still, circumstances being what they were they'd just have to deal with it later.

By the time they finished a bottle of vodka had been polished off entirely between them, along with a second that Luke had downed mostly by himself. Nick stood up, though he had to catch himself on the edge of the couch.

“Hey um...” Danny started, looking at Nick and Judy. He was flushed. “Benjy could drive you guys home, but would you like to crash at our place for the night? It's just a few blocks from here, and I dunno if you'd want company or...”

“We'll be on our besht behav... behaveeyor,” Luke promised, slurring thoroughly. He leaned in and threw a paw around Danny. “We've gots a couch fer you guys... but y'know... if you wanna bunk wif us...”

It was Danny now who gave a disapproving scowl and nudged Luke in the ribs.

Judy was swooning, and she looked up at Benjy, then at Nick. A faint, buck-toothed smile spread across her face. It was downright adorable, and for a moment it made Nick forget about all his worries. Her apartment was on the other side of town, and with the state they were all in now wasn't the time to deal with the half-hour late-night commute. Plus Benjy really needed to get some rest... it wouldn't be right to put him out of his way.

“Thanks, we really appreciate it,” said Nick. He hoisted Judy up on his back, and she made a soft purring sound into his shoulder. His head spun a little when he tried to make for the door, and he almost fell back onto the seat. “There we go, Fluff. I got you.”

Savanna Central was populated with high-end apartments and overpriced houses for the elites of Zootopia. The tiger boys lived in one of the lower-end blocks, but it was still far nicer than anything Nick could've hoped to afford. The lobby had a nice little couch and coffee table, the halls were clean and smelled of lemon-scented cleaning solution, and the wallpaper was as crisp and clean as the day it was put up. Not a single peeling edge or water stain or patch of mildew.

The apartment was immaculate... way cleaner than Nick would've believed of three dudes living together. Two black couches and dark wood tables contrasted against the white carpeting, while a tall vase beside the wall-mounted flatscreen was filled with an arrangement of blood-red flowers and pussy willows. The kitchen was well-maintained, with bins of rice and beans and lentils on the counter. It clearly saw plenty of use too, from the rack of drying cookware next to the sink.

The moment Luke and Danny entered they started to strip down, groaning and mumbling about the crazy night. Judy was too out of it to really notice or care about the abrupt feline nudity that was playing out before her.

Benjy though went straight for a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of brandy with his good arm, his injured one hanging limp at his side. He uncorked it with his teeth, spitting the stopper onto the floor, and drank straight from the bottle, heedless of the trickle that was running down his neck. The guy deserved it after taking down those preds by paw and still choosing to play the designated driver after.

“Make yourselves at home,” he mumbled, scrubbing his muzzle with his sleeve and padding over to his room. “I'm gonna go lie down.”

“Don't mind him,” Danny said as he opened the closet and came out with a thick winter blanket and a pair of extra pillows. He laid them on one of the couches. “Benjy is a total sweetheart once you get to know him, but he just needs his personal space sometimes.”

“Ain't it the truth,” Nick said, trotting over to the couch and letting Judy flop off of his back. The guy was a perfectly fine fella to work with, but he wasn't Nick's first choice to bond with over drinks at the bar.

Luke had stumbled into his bedroom when Danny turned to face Nick. Nick tried to ignore the faceful of tiger junk he was getting. Sometimes being only four feet tall put him at the wrong eye level.

“Hey just so you know, Luke was serious earlier. If either of you two wanna... it doesn't have to go anywhere. We can just cuddle if that's as far as you wanna go. So... just puttin' it out there. Maybe think it over,” Danny smiled, then turned to join Luke. With a flick of his tail, he turned off the light and closed the door behind him.

“Hoo boy,” Nick murmured as he flopped onto the couch. Tonight he'd just lost a bet, learned that his coworker had a twin after all, gotten hit on by a pair of gay tigers, helped break up a bar brawl that'd led to multiple murders, and now here he was with Judy curled up on a couch next to him. It was a lot to process. Unreal even, like the segmented madness of a dream.

He looked down at Judy. This wouldn't be the first time they'd fallen asleep together on a couch. Their movie nights often ended up with Judy curled up asleep in his lap, or he'd have flopped over with his head in hers. Beforehand Nick would've called it cute, though Judy wouldn't have liked that. This time though he looked down at his partner. It was lucky that Benjy had carried a sidearm tonight. Without it Nick would've been helpless. Hell, Judy herself had bounded straight into the action, not even hesitating to dive into the fray to take down their perps. With the way his paws had trembled Nick was surprised he'd shot true at all.

Judy was stronger than him in a lot of ways. She was definitely much braver. But now that he looked down at her folded into a fluffy little ball she looked so small, so fragile...

So awake.

Nick had great night vision, but even with that it took a moment for him to notice that she'd just blinked. Her eyes were staring straight ahead at nothing, and she was chewing idly on a thumbnail.

“Carrots?”

“I'm awake,” she whispered, as if he hadn't noticed. “We could've been killed tonight huh?”

“Y-Yeah...”

“I... I didn't think it'd get so... so intense. I've trained for this my whole life, but I never thought I'd see anything like that.”

“I hadn't even thought about becoming a cop until a few months ago,” said Nick. “I really don't think I'm doing much better. Frankly I'm surprised I didn't puke and contaminate the crime scene.”

“I think I still might,” Judy murmured. “Help hold my ears back if I suddenly rush to the bathroom, okay?”

“Deal, Carrots.” Nick laid a pillow under her head then and was about to pull the blanket over her when she rolled over to face him. Her paws reached up to cup his face. At first they just stared at each other, gazing at the dim outline of each other's heads. Then Judy pressed her mouth to the tip of his muzzle.

She was kissing him. Judy was kissing him.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, and Judy nuzzled into his cheek. Nick froze, unsure of what to do beside hold her as her paws felt along his torso. Judy was so small against him, and warmer than he'd have thought possible from someone of her size. Trying to be gentle he began to feel along her lithe little body, and found a softness that he hadn't realized Judy had.

Closing his eyes he kissed her back... slowly, carefully, knowing she'd never been with a predator before. Actually... had she ever been with anyone? She was a rabbit after all, so this couldn't be her first time. At the same time though there was something exploratory about her movements, unpracticed, but could it just be from them being pred and prey? He felt Judy flick her little tongue out and lick his teeth, carefully exploring the pointed fangs. Somewhere in the middle of it all his tie had come undone, and he wasn't sure which one of them had tugged it loose.

She had always had that rabbity smell... soft and gentle like a summer meadow. But now there was a new scent beginning to bloom, something warmer... sharper. She let out a soft little whimper.

His heart skipped a bit at that, and he suddenly realized what he was doing. Just as she started to pull open his shirt and feel along his chest, Nick stopped her.

“Whoa whoa, easy there, Judy...” he said gently, though he was breathing heavily. How had he let it get this far? She blinked. It was rare for him to use her name, and when he did it was always something serious. “I know I'm irresistible, but right now it's the booze talking. I don't want you waking up wondering what the hell just happened or if I took advantage of you, all right?”

“Nick, I... I'd never think...”

He cupped her cheeks, and gave her a little peck on the forehead. A chaste, almost big-brotherly kiss. That silenced her completely. All of a sudden she felt flushed in his arms, embarrassed at what she'd just tried to do.

“It's okay, darlin',” Nick smiled. “Like I said, it's just the booze talking.”

“If... if it's not too weird...” she started. “Can you hold me maybe? It's... it's kind of a rabbit thing...”

“Sure,” Nick said as he reached down and did a sly little tuck-and-readjust. Years of practice picking pockets meant he could do it easily without Judy noticing.

They both laid down with their heads on the same massive, tiger-sized pillow, and pulled the blanket over themselves. Judy had curled into a little ball and was already snoozing away as Nick held her against his chest. Nick though was left staring through the window, gazing into the lights of the city. High towers glittered in the night sky, gold panels arrayed in the glowing skins of skyscrapers that twisted and curved into the starlit field. He could see why Judy loved the city.

Yeah it was a bunny thing, for her to want to cuddle up with something soft and warm when she was upset. That's why she had that swarm of stuffed animals, apparently. She'd shared lots of “bunny things” like that in the time that they'd been partners.

Problem is, Nick himself had never shared any “fox things” with her.

Like how foxes had to step carefully if they, by some miracle, made friends with rabbits. They had a reputation after all, and with bunnies looking so small and vulnerable, the two of them together, well... it could've easily been interpreted as something unsavory.

Back when he was a teenager, anyone catching a male fox and a female bunny together in bed would've assumed that the fox had forced himself on the poor rabbit. No one would've thought of it as romance, or experimenting, or a casual fling between consenting mammals. No, consent just wasn't in the dictionary when it came to fox-rabbit relations. Other, nastier words were used to describe what everyone assumed had happened. Reynards have been shot for less. Back in his parents' day a tod in the country might've been strung up just for flirting with a bunny, if he wasn't simply dragged out and beaten to death.

The message from his mom was clear. Never make a pass at a rabbit. Be careful even getting close to one as a friend. It just wasn't worth it.

He'd never forgotten all those warnings his mother gave him, but now they burned in his mind. Before he saw what happened at the club he'd thought that as dim a view as society had on foxes, they were at least progressive enough to not assume they were all shifty low-lifes bent on accosting and mauling bunnies for fun. Once news of the Lone Digger spread, what would they think now?

All of a sudden it came flooding back to him. The stories. The warnings. The times his mom had to sit him down at the dinner table as a kit, telling him that this was just how the world was.

It was a pure accident of the universe that'd thrown him and Judy together. _It's different now_ , Nick tried to tell himself. It was a better, more open-minded time thanks to mammals like her. Hell, if Benjy was any indication most of the precinct would probably approve. But now he stared off into space and sweated, suddenly nervous that he had gotten close to a rabbit, more than he had anyone else in his life. A shiver ran up his spine as he held Judy in his arms.

Slowly, carefully, he slid his arm out from under Judy. Slinking away from her he took the other pillow and plopped down on the other couch. Part of him was tempted to take Danny and Luke up on their offer, if only to just put some more distance between him and Judy. Wrapping his arms around his body, he closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep, trying to ignore the smell of bunny still in the air.

He couldn't help it. It was a fox thing.

 


	3. Mandatory Leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Lone Digger Massacre, the three cops involved are put on mandatory leave. Nick and Judy have to sort themselves out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains R-rated depictions of violence and adult humor. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are the property of Disney.

**CROUPER:** Good evening. I'm Antlerson Crouper, and this is 360 on ZNN. Top story tonight, the Lone Digger Massacre, in which six predators under the influence of the new street drug Blue initiated a brawl that left eight mammals dead. Here with us tonight to give us some perspective on the matter is Doctor Isaac Mohegan Conall, social psychologist and author of “Howl, Hop, and Herd: How Instinct Shapes Behavior.” Thank you for being with us, Doctor Conall.

 **CONALL:** Thank you for having me, Antlerson

 **CROUPER:** First off, what can you tell us about the drug, Blue?

 **CONALL:** Blue is a derivative of the Night Howler plant, the same one that was used in the terrorist attacks last year. Unlike the distilled and concentrated Night Howler toxin that was used however, Blue is a low-dose compound that has had certain adjuvants chemically altered. It is currently being used by mammals to elicit a euphoric, excited state. It enhances the senses, increases adrenaline output, and has also been observed in use as a performance enhancer in athletic competitions. Two of the suspects in the Lone Digger for example admitted to using Blue to win a recent football game.

 **CROUPER:** But it seems inconceivable to me that, given its link to the Night Howler toxin, anyone would willingly experiment with this drug. Everyone should know the dangers by now.

 **CONALL:** I'm afraid you're overestimating the scientific literacy of the general public, Antlerson. The fact is, we live in a nation in which roughly twenty percent of mammals don't even know that plants have DNA. Thirty percent couldn't tell you if the earth revolved around the sun, or if it was the other way around. I wouldn't be surprised if a similar proportion aren't aware of the link between Night Howlers and Blue.

 **CROUPER:** That seems like a bit of an overestimate. I mean, as a journalist I do my best to try to inform the public, and I'd like to think that we've done a better job than that.

 **CONALL:** It pains me to say this, Antlerson, but I'm afraid that beyond the public simply not having a good grasp of scientific facts, other societal pressures at play here. The revelation that Mayor Bellwether was the mastermind behind the Night Howler plot was a huge shock to Zootopia. Before she was caught she was immensely popular, and her supporters literally flocked behind her. Even now a vocal minority of prey mammals, thirty-two percent from the last Gallop poll, believe that she was set up by the Pred Pride movement. Many don't even believe that the Night Howler toxin exists, and this sentiment even extends to a proportion of predators as well.

 **CROUPER:** Ah yes, the Zootopia Truthers.

 **CONALL:** Precisely. I've spoken to many of the predators who had been afflicted by the Night Howler toxin, and many of them are currently in hiding because of death threats from the Zoother movement. Zoothers have essentially gone into denial about the real pharmacological dangers we face, and instead build conspiracies about the dangers of predator biology.

 **CROUPER:** This is very relevant to the next question I have actually. I understand that you recently published a sociological study on Savage Syndrome and its impact on the predator community. What can you tell us about your work and how it relates to the Lone Digger Massacre?

 **CONALL:** If I could take a moment, Antlerson, but the more accepted medical term would be Night Howler Syndrome. While the term “savage” provides an attractive alliteration, it also perpetuates a negative stereotype of predators that is simply false.

 **CROUPER:** Ah, I apologize for that.

 **CONALL:** It's all right. To answer your question though, my research has focused on the Bellwether Conspiracy and how those in the predator community were impacted psychologically. Unfortunately, we've seen an uptick in predators reporting PTSD-like symptoms following the attacks. Decades of institutional discrimination have already left many in the community growing up with a degree of internalized predophobia. And I fear it will only get worse from here if our political leaders don't work to address these problems immediately.

 

~~~~~

 

“About damn time one of you made a move.”

The Meadowlands didn't have much excitement going on, which was precisely what Nick needed at the moment. The little dive bar they were in catered mostly to the local sheep, but enough foxes worked in the area that they didn't turn any heads. Most Nick got was a few glances from the goats at the pool table, and that was probably more for his Pawaiian shirt than his species.

Finnick downed another mouthful of his whiskey and continued. “Don't see why you're moping about it though. Judy's a sweet gal... anyone would be happy to have her.”

“Yeah. She is. The two of us... we get along great, but the problem isn't with her. I mean, when it comes to types I'm... well...”

“Old?”

Nick furrowed his brow as he glared at Finnick. “I was gonna say 'a fox.'”

“I hadn't noticed! Since when?” the fennec's eyes widened in mock amazement.

“But yeah that too. I mean, I grew up with the original Star Wolves trilogy, but to her it's vintage. She wasn't even alive during the O.J. Stoatson trial. And...” Nick sighed, “God she's sweet but we're a generation apart.”

“So are we, but we get along just fine. And you still haven't seen Beast Side Story have you?”

“Heh, nope. Talk about vintage...”

“Like a fine first-generation Mustang,” said Finnick, clinking the ice in his glass. “I don't see what you're going on about. Give it a few years and the both of you will even out a bit.”

“Didn't think you'd approve, old man.” Nick waved at the bartender, laying another ten on the counter. The old goat refilled his glass with another portion of double-malt.

“Hey, if you go preyo that just means more vixens for me. Though I gotta admit it's a huge pisser not having you as a wingman. Next to your ugly mug I'm downright adorable.”

Nick ran a claw along the rim of his glass. “She doesn't know what it's like though.”

“What? Bein' a fox?”

“I mean... she tries. She's pretty open-minded about a lot of things. But for her it's looking at things from the outside-in.” Nick sipped from his glass. His mouth was probably going to taste like an ashtray in the morning. “You remember when your parents had to sit you down for The Talk?”

“That's more of a Red Fox thing,” Finnick snorted and reached for the bowl of salted peanuts. “Guess that's one of the benefits of being a fennec... we look all harmless so we never have to deal with the shit bigger preds go through. But yeah. I know about it.”

“Always smile to police officers, but never show any teeth. Make sure they can see your paws, but keep 'em at your sides. Make sure you always keep your claws trimmed short,” Nick ticked off the rules by rote. They'd been hammered into him thoroughly. “Don't speak to a cop unless spoken to, always give an exact answer. No jokes, no funny business.”

“Put your ears down and bow your head, tuck your tail between your legs so you look smaller.” Finnick continued for Nick. He snorted at that one. “Man I could fluff myself up all the way and I wouldn't be able to scare a squirrel.”

Nick chuckled. As much as Finnick played the the advantages of being a desert fox, he sure felt free to complain about how he wished he was more like one of the bigger preds. “And most importantly, never give the cops a reason to shoot you.”

Nick sighed then, swirling his glass. “Working as a cop now... it helps, y'know? I don't have to worry about that stuff as much anymore. I know all the other guys at the precinct have got my back. But the moment that uniform is off and I'm wandering around in, say, Outback Island... the division doesn't know me there. And all of a sudden I gotta remember all the bullet points.”

Finnick popped another peanut into his mouth and brushed the salt from his paws. “You think Judy wouldn't understand if you told her?”

“I'm... not sure I actually want her to. She shouldn't have to worry about this stuff. If she knew how ugly things could get for us...”

“Man that's your problem,” Finnick huffed. “What exactly do you think you're protecting her from? The two of you just faced down four drugged-up preds and came outta it without a scratch. Judy's tough. She can handle it. Just because she's cute doesn't mean she can't handle the facts.”

Nick stared into his glass. Maybe he _was_ underestimating her. Hell, if she knew that was the reason he didn't want to talk she'd probably punch him in the ribs. If there was anything that pissed off a rabbit, it was being underestimated because they seemed so non-threatening.

Nick smirked, thinking about the first time they'd met. Cute little meter maid, so naive, so eager to help. Such an easy mark. At the time it'd been so sweet to be able to pull one over on a cop and snub authority without consequences. For once he could be around someone in uniform and not be afraid that he was going to get tackled, tased, or shot for no damn reason. Even if she had that fox repellent in her holster.

Man, what had the world come to for him to be where he was now?

“I think I'm done for the night,” Nick said, getting up from his seat. He downed the rest of his drink on one gulp. He'll have to take a piss before he headed down to the station to catch the next train back Downtown. “Thanks for coming all the way out here. I just needed to get away for a little.”

“Take care of yourself, bud. I don't wanna hear you took a swan dive off a bridge or somethin'.”

“Hey it's me you're talking about here,” Nick smirked, adjusting his tie. “Nothing gets to me.”

 

~~~~~

 

Judy had been looking forward to Monday morning.

Nick had canceled their usual weekend plans. Normally on Saturday afternoons they would window-shop with Nick showing her all the hot spots of the city, and once night fell they'd order takeout and stream a movie in one of their apartments. When he had said he'd just wanted to stay in, Judy couldn't help but think it was her fault

How could she have misread him so badly though? In everything else they did together they were on the same wavelength. The way he teased her, the way he smiled and held her tight against him body when they watched a cheesy action flick on the couch together... Sure he wasn't as physically affectionate as Judy was used to, even as someone who was simply a friend. But she thought the two of them had been moving in a certain direction.

Maybe it was just the wrong time and place to try to go further. In a coworker's apartment that is, and after nearly being killed in a bar next to a half dozen corpses. Not exactly romantic of course, but... well, at the time she'd just needed to do something to forget about all of that. Clearly Nick hadn't felt the same way.

Worst case scenario though, Judy had just misunderstood completely, and Nick just didn't feel for her the way she did for him. In a certain light his interactions with her might've been more big-brotherish than flirtatious.

She could've lived with that. What was really unbearable was just not knowing. Not being able to clear the air and talk things out, which should've happened over the weekend if it weren't for Nick claiming he just needed to be alone for a while. Part of her had been tempted to just take the bus to his apartment in the Rainforest District and get some time face-to-face, but she'd been forward enough already. Which meant two miserable days of stressing out about the whole situation and cuddling up to her stuffed animals.

All that was why she was looking forward to Monday, when they'd just have to see each other at work. Unless he had the gall to call in sick.

No... no that wasn't fair. If Nick needed time to himself to process what happened at the Lone Digger and what happened... afterward... he had every right to it. She just wished he would _talk_ to her.

So she was glad to see him sipping his morning coffee as he sat on his desk, chatting with Delgato and Higgins, no doubt relaying his version of what happened last Friday. He seemed animated and cheerful enough, and flashed Judy one of his trademark smirks that made her want to either hug him or give him a friendly punch in the arm.

It seemed like any other morning.

“Officers Grizzoli, Fangmeyer, Delgato... tip on Blue manufacturers in the Meadowlands,” Chief Bogo declared, handing them a folder.

“Snarlof, Higgins, Wolford... Canal District patrol...”

“McHorn and Trunkaby, your teams keep an eye out for dealers in the Rainforest and Marshlands districts...”

As usual, Judy and Nick were last in the bull pen to get their assignments. Funny thing though was that Benjy was with them. Heck, it was unusual for him to be here at all. After getting mauled on Saturday he should've stayed home and healed up.

“Finally,” Bogo said, looking up over the rim of his glasses, “Hopps, Wilde, Kaplan... you three are on mandatory leave.”

“Wh-” Judy began. She and Nick shared a confused look, “Chief Bogo, did... did we do something wrong?”

“New protocol, Hopps,” Bogo said, taking in the three of them. “Something that was drawn up between me and the Mayor when the Night Howler attacks were running hot last year. Any officers involved in subduing a savage mammal will undergo mandatory psychological evaluation. Blue junkies count in my book. And given what the three of you went through, I think a week's mandatory leave is also in order.”

“The Mayor- you mean Bellwether?!” Nick growled.

“Don't take that tone with me, Wilde!” Bogo snapped. “I agreed with the idea then, and I agree with it now. The new Mayor approves as well. So you will schedule an appointment either today or tomorrow. If you do not pass this evaluation, you. Are. On. Suspension.”

At first Judy thought it was going to be an appointment with their resident Counselor Whitetail. In light of recent events though Bogo had gotten a specialist, and his office was several blocks from the station. Now that they were on leave she and Nick couldn't check out one of the station vehicles. The question then was whether they should get it over with or push the appointment a bit further down the line. Benjy for his part had decided to stop off at his apartment to change into his civilian clothes before heading out.

“Not much liking the idea of having a doctor poking around in my head,” said Nick, munching on his breakfast donut. Clawhauser as usual had an abundance of snacks on his desk, and he was always willing to share. “Dunno how he'll sort out the mess I've got in there.”

“Hey um... Nick?” said Judy. Her carrot loaf was still untouched in the paper bag she held. “We... need to talk.”

“You do know those are the four scariest words you could ever say to a guy, right?”

“It's... I'm sorry for Friday night. I... I don't know if I moved too fast, or if it was the wrong time, or if you didn't want to do that in Benjy's apartment or... or if that's just not what you wanted to do to cope with what we went through earlier. But that's what I personally felt like I needed, and I swear it really wasn't the alcohol or anything, I've been thinking about it for a while but if you really don't feel that way about me I'm fine withthattooandIhopewecanjustbefriends-”

Judy realized she was going a mile a minute when Nick put a paw on her nose to stop her.

“Sorry,” she said more slowly. “I just... I've been going crazy all weekend wanting to say that to you.”

He leveled a flat look at her then. It was almost lazy, or even bored. It was so hard to tell what Nick was feeling. He was so good at hiding his emotions, and even after graduating from the Academy, his Slick Nick attitude never truly went away. It always made him interesting... real mysterious, like a black box whose contents you had to puzzle out, but one that you could never truly see the inside of.

Now though... it was kind of scary, not being able to read him.

“You didn't do anything wrong, Carrots...” he said finally. “I've had a lot on my mind since we survived the whole nightclub thing. But how about we not worry about this too much until we get this whole psych eval over with, 'kay? I mean, we've got a whole week to talk it out after all.”

Judy wrapped her arms around him, smiling. She loved wrapping her paws around Nick... bunnies were so soft, but he was so slim and lanky and firm against her. “Oh I'm so relieved. I was so worried I'd messed everything up.”

“Naw, we're good. Hey, how about we schedule the appointment with the shrink for tomorrow? We can go back to our places, get changed, and meet up in the Marshlands for lunch. I know this great little strip mall you can only get to by boat. Bet you've never had Cajun before...”

Nick tussling her headfur was the best thing she'd felt in days.


	4. Hard Interrogation, Soft Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a particular fox is grilled by the cops, Judy has her first session with the good doctor to sort out her feelings about the Lone Digger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains R-rated depictions of violence and adult humor. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are the property of Disney.

“Nicholas Wilde, you're under arrest!” barked Officer Kaplan.

“Whoa whoa whoa what'd I do?!” asked the slender fox. “You've got nothing on me, puss! NOTHING!”

“You know damn well selling catnip is a class-3 felony, Wilde,” Officer Catsby said, holding up the baggie of packed nip.

“That's circumstantial evidence! I know my rights!”

“Oh? And what about this?” Officer Kaplan grabbed Nick's tie and yanked him forward roughly. The fox cycled his arms as he tried to regain his balance. Kaplan felt along the length of the tie then, and worked loose the catnip joint that he'd hidden in the inner seam. “You wanna talk circumstantial? I'd say it's a pretty shitty set of circumstances you've placed yourself in eh, Wilde?”

“That... I was just... holding that for a friend...” he said lamely.

“Ooh maybe this'd be the first time that excuse worked!” Catsby snorted.

“Come on, Kaplan, please... we're buddies, right? You can let me off the hook on this one... for old time's sake?”

“Bullshit, Nick. I know your history as a con man, and I always fucking knew you were a dirty cop,” said Officer Kaplan. “Now you're gonna talk... where is the goddamn den you were gonna offload this on? Huh?”

“Want me to take him out back?” Officer Catsby asked, tapping the nightstick against his paw. “Soften him up a little?”

“Cool it, man. Nick's reasonable, and I know he happens to like breathing without the aid of a tube,” said Kaplan.

“Oh please, stow the good tiger, bad tiger routine you two.” Despite the situation Nick was in, he rolled his eyes. “I've been hustlin' since I was twelve, I know the game better than either of you.”

“Hrmph. You know what? You're right, Kaplan. Might as well leave his tailhole nice and tight for Greasy Carl in Cell Block Six,” Catsby chuckled. “You ever hear of him, Nick? Tiny little stoat, just about nine inches long. Smuggles cooking oil outta the prison kitchen, and he slathers himself up from nose to tail. Then once he's lubed up he'll crawl all the way up inside your-“

“Whoa no no no!” at the mention of the stoat's predilections the fox fell to his knees, paws clasped in front of him, begging. His eyes were wide and filled with terror. Tears began to spill down his long, narrow muzzle. It would've been heartbreaking if it weren't for his betrayal. Dirty cops were the fucking worst. “Please, guys! I- I don't know anything! I swear! PLEASE don't give me over to Greasy Carl!”

“He's lying. He's fucking lying...” Catsby snarled, plucking the nip joint from Kaplan's paw. Putting it to his mouth he withdrew a lighter. A flick and a huff, and he blew a sweet little puff of smoke in the tod's face. “I hate liars.”

Kaplan sighed. “You know, I was trying to help you Nick. I was seriously trying to save you, because I know this is gonna break Hopps' heart. But you leave me no choice...”

“NO!!!!”

The fox tried to dart past, but Kaplan caught him by the hem of his Pawaiian shirt and pinned his paws behind his back. Nick grunted as he was slammed into the floor. Catsby took the coil of rope out of the canvas bag they kept for occasions such as this.

“No! No no no please no!” Nick whimpered, but broke down sobbing as they stripped off his pants and tied him up. His wrists were bound behind him, his ankles strapped to the backs of his naked haunches. The little dude weighed only eighty pounds, but with his squirming it was tough to hang him dangling from the metal frame. He swayed back and forth, whimpering.

“P-Please, man... please... for Judy's sake don't do this...”

“You had your chance...” Kaplan said. With him standing in front of the fox, and Catsby behind, the two uniformed officers undid their belts and unzipped his pants...

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” someone snarled from the front door.

“Oh shit.”

“Why the fuck does it smell like nip in here?! Wh- NICK?! Holy shit what the fuck are you doing to him?!” Benjy roared as he stormed in, tossing his gym bag onto the floor. He marched forward, knocking his twin aside. “You've pulled some real insane shit in the past but this is the last fucking straw! I'm fucking gonna have to arrest my own brother! My OWN BROTHER!”

He bent forward and started to undo the knots. “Don't worry Nick I'm gonna get you outta this, I'm gonna...”

Benjy paused as he looked the fox in the face. “You're not Nick.”

“Heh... you're... you're home early...” Danny grinned sheepishly, rubbing his knuckles together the way he did when he was in trouble. Luke straightened and tried to hide the nightstick he held behind his back.

Benjy planted his face in his paws. “Please someone tell me what the fuck is going on. I just had a really shitty day. And if the two of you don't get out of my spare uniforms right now I'm gonna drag you both down to the station for impersonating an officer.”

The fox smiled up at Benjy. “Hi, I'm Chester!” He seemed oddly comfortable still trussed up and dangling from the bondage frame, half-dressed in his Nick Wilde ensemble.

“Kid, are you even legal?” Benjy sighed, leveling a flat stare at the vulpine.

“I'm twenty-one thank you very much! Wallet's on the table if you wanna check my ID.”

Danny and Luke in the meantime were shedding their policeman's blues as fast as they could. It was pretty easy in fact, since buff as he was Benjy was sized a bit bigger than either of them and the uniforms were a tad loose.

This wasn't the first time Danny had engaged in a little kinky roleplay using his brother's gear, though of course Benjy didn't know it. The former Mayor Lionheart definitely had a soft spot for 'Officer Kaplan,' especially when he wore his tight sequined shorts under the uniform. Classy lion... Danny was gonna miss those nights. He'd always reserved a special lapdance just for the guy, and after he finished swirling on Lionheart's thighs he'd be bent over the Mayor's desk, the smell of cigar smoke in the air and a glass of red wine rattling on the mahogany surface.

“Oh come on bro,” sighed Danny, peeling off Benjy's shirt. “You must've thought Nick was totally sexy the other night. Those green eyes, that smug grin, that cocky swagger of his. I mean _unf_ city!”

Luke had tossed the shirt he was wearing onto the couch and was just beginning to pull off his pants. “So... you know, we just ran into this little dude at the club, took him down to Bearberry to get him dressed up... not quite the same article, but still. Pretty foxy little twink.”

“And a twinky little fox,” Danny added, now naked and holding his brother's uniform in a rolled-up bundle.

“Thanks!” Chester chirped.

“The guy is my coworker. Holy shit this is all kinds of wrong,” Benjy groaned. “And I'm confiscating the catnip!”

“You can't!” Danny protested, “Luke needs it to treat his ADD! Why do you think he watches so many cartoons?”

“I think I saw a squirrel on the balcony,” said Luke, glancing out the window. “Did you see a squirrel? Squirrels are awesome.”

“You show me a cat who _doesn't_ have ADD!” Benjy growled.

“I'm serious, bro! Luke's got a prescription and everything!”

Benjy rubbed his temples as if trying to ease out a headache. “You know I'm gonna need to see that.”

“They were in my pants,” said Luke with a shrug, “I tossed them out the window in a fit of passion.”

“And you still haven't explained why you're back right now,” said Danny as he folded up the uniforms. Benjy was pretty uptight, but he was also a bit of a slob. Usually Danny was the one who had to clean things up around here. “Doesn't your shift end at 8:00?”

“I'm on mandatory leave,” Benjy sighed, flopping into the sofa. “They had me talk to a shrink and everything.”

Danny already had a few nice one-shots lined up. _Benjy, you're too uptight to be crazy_. Or _Benjy, if you needed a doctor you should've had him start by extracting the stick from your ass_. But he was perfectly aware of why a psychologist was foisted upon him today, so he held off on the snark for now.

“Hey, you'll be all right, bro,” said Danny, sitting down and putting an arm around his twin. “Sorry you had to walk in on this.”

“Yeah well a sex swing in the middle of the living room is far from the worst I've seen outta you,” Benjy said as he rifled through the fox's wallet. Somehow he seemed disappointed that the ID was legit.

“Bondage rack,” Luke corrected.

“Wait, are you paying him?” Benjy looked down at the fox, “You didn't just bring some rentkit in here did you?”

“Well he gets to keep the clothes, but aside from that no,” Danny leaned forward and tussled the fox's headfur. “He just has the pleasure of getting spitroasted by a pair of Gazelle's glitter tiggers.”

“This whole conversation is kind of a mood killer though,” said Chester, still dangling from his bonds.

“Danny,” Benjy said slowly, looking his brother in the eye, “Tell me the truth. Have you tried it?”

Danny stared back at his brother for a long, confused moment. He looked at the fox, who gave a little shrug, then at Luke who was puffing away on the joint again, then back at Benjy.

“You're gonna have to be way, _way_ more specific asking about the shit I've tried.”

“Blue.”

“Hell no!” Danny said, slightly offended. “I mean I've been curious sure... they say that when you're on Blue the sex is _insane_ , but... no man. It's too fucked up, even for me.”

“Aw,” said Chester, laying his ears flat in disappointment.

“The whole Night Howler fiasco last year was the worst thing Gazelle's ever had to deal with, man,” Luke said, blowing out a smoke ring. “If she knew her boys were experimenting with Blue it'd break her heart.”

“We'd never do that to her,” Danny said, wrapping his arms around Benjy again. “Or to you.”

Danny could feel his brother relaxing in his arms, and Benjy wrapped his twin in a big, burly hug.

“Thanks, little bro. I seriously needed to hear that from you.”

“Tell you what,” Danny grinned, swirling a finger through the little wedge of bare chest fur revealed by Benjy's v-neck. “How about you join us right now? We'll even let you get first pass at this twinky little fox here.”

Benjy looked down at the Chester, who was smiling back, his bushy tail lifted. “Uh speaking of that... you _are_ aware of the size difference, aren't ya, kiddo? I'm pretty sure I can fuck you in half.”

Chester leveled a flat stare at the tiger. “You don't know much about foxes, do you? We're pretty stretchy.”

“Can you change into your uniform first?” Luke asked with a goofy little grin. He was getting seriously high. They were supposed to share that nip, but Danny wasn't about to do that with Benjy around.

“You two and your fetishes,” Benjy grumbled, pulling his shirt over his head and grabbing one of the folded-up uniforms next to him.

“By the way,” Chester smiled, “my safeword is 'FoRep.'”

 

~~~~~

 

Judy sat in the plush, bunny-sized seat as Dr. Isaac Mohegan Conall busied himself at the counter. Dr. Conall had an assortment of chairs of different sizes lined up against the wall, for clients of different species. He himself was a slim, almost lanky wolf with jet-black fur and sharp golden eyes. Despite her best intentions Judy had shivered the moment he greeted her at the door. Those yellow eyes were hard and piercing, and his smile didn't seem to touch his gaze.

“I always make tea for my patients,” he said in a crisp accent, enunciating every syllable. “I find it helps them relax, particularly when we first meet. I realize I don't have the most gentle of countenances.”

The porcelain tea set had a soft pattern of pink roses, more suitable for an old grandmother's home than an office of a black wolf in his mid-40s. Judy took her cup and blew on it, the floral aroma of Earl Gray filled her nose. She took a sip. The tea was still a bit hot, but it was perfectly brewed. Not too strong, not too weak.

“Would you like milk or sugar?” he asked gently. “I have both real milk and soy.”

“Soy milk, please, and just a little sugar I guess.” He really was quite good when it came to his little tea ceremony. She could already feel herself relaxing in his presence.

Dr. Conall poured a splash of soy milk into her cup and added a small spoonful of sugar. There was an expert grace in how he handled the tiny bunny-sized spoon, his paws delicate as he stirred. It was almost a performance in itself.

He then lifted the cover from a small dish, revealing small pink cubes, each dusted with powdered sugar.

“Tigrian delights,” he said, “I get them from a confectioner in Tundratown. It's another little habit of mine: I like to guess what flavors best suit my patients.” The black wolf smiled then, and this time his eyes did seem to warm up. “I suspected you may like the traditional recipe: rosewater, with chopped pistachio nuts.”

Judy tried one. It was chewy like a gumdrop, and intensely sweet at first. But with a sip of tea to wash it down the flavor of roses and Earl Gray played together on her tongue. The crunch of chopped pistachios added a fun texture too.

“Wow it's delicious!” Judy said, tapping her foot happily. She took another.

“I'm glad you approve,” Dr. Conall said, leaning back. “Now, I just want to clarify that this is simply an evaluation. We're here to see if recent events have affected you to the point that you may need further psychological treatment. While I am perfectly happy to offer my services as a therapist, the important thing is for you to have a therapist that best suits _you_. Most of my patients are predators, and I would understand if you aren't completely comfortable with me acting in this capacity.”

Judy felt slightly abashed now. “Well... I don't... don't want you to think I'm uncomfortable around predators. Not at all! I mean, my best friend is...” Judy paused, suddenly remembering her first encounter with Nick, and how she'd almost pulled out the fox repellent on him. “Well, me and Nick had to get to know one another, but I wouldn't have anyone else as my partner. I don't have any problem with a predator as my doctor.”

Dr. Conall's tone was gentle when he spoke. “Well, if you do require counseling, be sure you select a counselor that would be best for _you_. I would be doing a disservice if I took you on as a patient simply because you wanted to spare my feelings.”

“All right,” said Judy. While it was true that a bunny psychologist, or even a prey psychologist in general like Dr. Whitetail would've understood her better in some ways, Judy was beginning to really like Dr. Conall. Besides, working past one's biases was a constant process and broadening the company she kept was part of it.

“Now tell me Judy, how have you been sleeping lately?”

“Not... not really well,” Judy hesitated. “Though it's not so much because of what happened at the club!”

“Go on.”

“I'd rather not talk about it,” she said, blushing. She could still remember Nick's tie weaving through her fingers as she undid it, the feel of his chestfur against her paw... long and wiry compared to her own fluffy coat. His muzzle was so pointed, his teeth sharp, but he was so gentle when he kissed her back. And he _did_ kiss her back.

When he kept brushing her off for the rest of that weekend though, she'd started to panic. The stress of it had left her lying awake deep into the night, and she would rouse late in the afternoon. A dramatic change for an early riser.

“It's... kind of personal,” she finished. “And really it has nothing to do with the Lone Digger.”

Dr. Conall nodded. “All right then. If that's the case, could you please describe for me what happened at the club?”

“Well, me and Nick- Officer Wilde that is... it started when I first heard a commotion next door. Officer Wilde and I had been having dinner at Giraffa's Grille on Jungle Row with Officer Kaplan, his brother, and his brother's boyfriend. We immediately entered the Lone Digger from the front entrance, and saw the four perpetrators-”

She stopped when Dr. Conall put up a paw. “Ah, my apologies, Judy. I'm actually not looking for a police report. I'm more interested in knowing what was going through your mind during those events. What did you feel in response to what you witnessed there? Perhaps tell it to me as a story, like how you would tell it to a friend.”

“Oh, um...” Judy had to mentally take a step back. She was so used to being the bunny cop that she'd slipped into the role immediately. “Well... when me and Nick ran in... I knew Nick was close behind, so I knew he'd help protect me. At first I was excited... ready to prove myself. I mean, back at the Academy I was able to take down a rhino in the boxing ring, so I knew I could handle a large criminal. I'd just never been able to prove it in the field.

“So... it was kind of neat to get the chance. People still kind of underestimate me, y'know? But then we raced through those doors, and... and I saw the bodies. The blood. My nose isn't as sensitive as Nick's, but I could smell the blood. And there was the way the panthers and the wolves were snarling at each other...”

Judy shivered. She'd done her best to forget the sight of that poor buffalo torn open, his insides spilling onto the dance floor. “The moment I realized what was going on I... I kind of went on autopilot. When I think back on what happened I'm not sure how I was able to do what I did. I just charged in, thinking that I had to help stop it. A part of me was scared too, and for a minute I was so scared I just froze on the spot. But then I saw the two wolves attacking Benjy, and I knew that if we didn't do anything they'd tear him apart. He's a great fighter but... but those wolves had gone almost completely savage. And that's when my body kind of took over again, and I did what I had to.”

For a long time Conall just stared at her, and then he took his teacup. Judy took the chance to have another sip as well. It was warm. Comforting.

“How do you feel about it? Going on autopilot as you say?”

“I... I don't know,” Judy said, staring down into the roses painted along the saucer. “I guess... I guess it scares me. I want to keep myself in check. It did protect me in the club, being able to react so quickly when it was such a confusing fight. But thinking about it now...”

She took a moment to gather herself before she spoke. “When I first met Nick I... jumped to conclusions about him. I try to be really open-minded about things, but the moment I saw a fox in the streets I assumed he was up to no good.”

Granted, Nick truly _had_ been working a hustle, but it still didn't justify her first impressions. “I had a can of fox repellent in my holster. My parents you know... worried about their little country girl going to the big city. They wanted me to protect myself. I didn't even want to carry it with me that day, but I made a split-second decision to carry it with me when I headed to the station. And there he was, this fox just trying to buy some ice cream at a shop, and I'd almost pulled it out on him.”

Judy wasn't able to look up at Conall as she spoke. “I was so stupid in that moment. If something had startled me, if I'd been reacting on instinct, if I'd gone into autopilot... I might've assaulted Nick. I'm just scared that if it comes down to it, in a confrontation with a perp, I might just accidentally hurt someone who's innocent.”

The black wolf had been listening quietly, teacup in paw, his yellow eyes fixed on her. As nice as Dr. Conall was, his gaze really was a bit disturbing. Judy hated the fact that she felt that way, but she couldn't deny it.

“I- I'm sorry, I'm just being a dumb bunny aren't I?” Judy tried to laugh, but found that she had to scrub her eyes and sniffle.

“Not at all,” Conall said smoothly, sipping his tea. “Your concerns are perfectly legitimate.”

Judy blinked.

“That is, your concern that you may be unjustifiably profiling innocent predators. It's all too common for an innocent fox or wolf or weasel get pulled aside and searched simply because he was walking in a rough part of town at night, and fortunately you seem to be well aware of that. But it's important that you don't be too hard on yourself. Despite the progress our society has made, the dream of mammalian coexistence is still a work in progress. The speciesist institutions that existed forty years ago still persist now, just in a much more insidious manner.”

“Yeah, the whole Night Howler thing kinda proved that,” Judy murmured.

“Oh certainly it exacerbated things. Yet even before the first reports of missing mammals came out institutional speciesism has permeated Zootopia in subtle ways. You think I don't grip my briefcase a bit tighter when I see a pack of wolves in hoodies come onto the same train car? Or that I don't want to walk a faster when another predator is behind me late at night? I know from firstpaw experience how society can have a prejudiced view of wolves, and to be vulnerable to subjecting that same prejudice on others is... painful.”

Conall sighed. “That said however, your instincts did serve to protect you that night. You were dropped into a violent, brutal situation and you came out unscathed. If your primary concern for the moment is how those same instincts might be misdirected, what do you think may help you resolve it?”

“In the field you can't second-guess yourself too much,” Judy admitted. “But...”

She thought it over for a long moment, running her training days through her head. The answer finally clicked.

“The target range might help...” she said, looking at Conall. “When the Night Howler attacks were getting worse Chief Bogo had us train with live ammunition. I mean, the thought of it scared me, but we had to train in a field with wooden cutouts of savage predators and civilian prey. It always made me uncomfortable, but thinking about it now... maybe I could train more at the range. But with a better mix of armed or savage perps! And more predators need to be portrayed as innocent civilians. I mean, at the very least it would help cops train to evaluate dangers based on other signs rather than on species.”

A thin smile spread across Dr. Conall's face then. “An excellent idea. Perhaps you could bring it up with Chief Bogo.”

Judy beamed. “Wow! I... I think I will!”

“Now, let's talk about any other anxieties you may have remaining after the Lone Digger...”

Judy nodded, sifting through her thoughts for anything else she might've missed. That was the biggest thing that came to mind though. More importantly, Judy started to feel like Dr. Conall was someone she could really trust.

 


	5. Flashbacks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Nick sits down for his session with Dr. Conall, Judy's experiences in Zootopia at the time of the Night Howler Epidemic are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains R-rated depictions of violence and adult humor. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are the property of Disney.

_Tomorrow would be her first day on the force._

_Judy had spent the last week settling in, exploring her neighborhood and window-shopping along the nicer areas in Savanna Central. She'd found a great little juice bar on the way to work, and she'd be able to get groceries from the little cornerstore on her block. The produce wasn't too fresh, but the frozen section at least would help her get by until she could get used to things._

_Judy had gotten her morning routine down pat. She'd dashed into the bathroom for her shower, toweled off thoroughly, hopped back to her desk to let herself air-dry, and enjoyed her breakfast of a gluten-free cranberry muffin with coffee. She hadn't tried gluten-free anything before, but it was the new health fad in the Zootopia. Not bad, but not the texture she liked out of a muffin. Still, being able to try sophisticated city-folk stuff like this made her feel as if she'd truly arrived._

_It was seven in the morning when Judy bounded out into the street for her early bird jog. There leaning against a stairwell was a teenage gray wolf. He wore a faded red T-shirt under a black pleather vest. Despite his rough appearance Judy tried to be friendly, and squeaked a cheerful “Good morning!” as she headed out in her shorts and tank top. Maybe after this she'd visit Sahara Square._

_Judy had gone no more than three steps before she smelled it._

_Turning back around she smiled and approached the wolf. He looked down at her with a scowl and folded his arms over his chest, as if it could conceal the smoke curling from the tip of the cigarette he held in his paw._

_“Sir, I'm afraid that smoking within twenty feet of a building entrance is a violation of Zootopia's city ordinance under Section 14. I'm going to have to ask you to put that out.” Technically she wasn't on duty. Heck, her first day on the job was tomorrow. But she was still a police officer, and that meant she couldn't just stand by._

_The wolf just stared at her and huffed. Gray smoke curled out of his nostrils._

_“What are you, a cop?” he said with a sneer. Suddenly his mouth curled into a toothy grin. “Heh... bunny cop. That's funny.”_

_Judy straightened her back. It didn't help much to make herself look taller in front of a wolf, but she had to be assertive. Judy had been in a good mood, and had intended to just let him off with a warning this time, but she had to put her foot down._

_Pulling out her badge she flashed it towards him. “Actually, sir... yes I am. How old are you?”_

_“Thirty,” he replied lazily, not even flinching at the sight of her little gold shield. It was obviously a lie... he couldn't have been more than fifteen, sixteen years old. What was a teenager doing- oh right, for nocturnal mammals seven in the morning was more like suppertime._

_That thought, while standing in front of a wolf, made her a bit uneasy. Just a little._

_“Sir, you're obviously too young to be smoking. I'm going to have to ask you to put that out.”_

_The wolf growled, baring his teeth as he lunged forward. Judy hopped back, almost falling on her tail when the wolf barked out a laugh. Judy reevaluated him... she'd tried to give him the benefit of a doubt, treat him as a nice young predator instead of assuming he was some thug just because he wore a pleather jacket, but now..._

_“Man you think I'm gonna take orders from a bunny?” his grin widened, showing the rows of glistening, daggerlike fangs. “Tell me, Flopsy... what're you gonna do if I feel like suckin' this down to the filter and puttin' it out on your cute little ass?”_

_Judy's heart was drumming in her chest. She knew her nose was twitching like crazy. But Judy wouldn't back down. She refused to back down. Especially not for some street punk lurking at the door to her apartment._

_“Sir...” she said, trying to sound stern yet polite. “You're gonna want to refrain from calling me 'Flopsy.' I'm Judy Hopps, ZPD, and you will put that out or I am going to have to take you down to the station.”_

_Judy and the wolf stared at each other for a long, drawn-out moment before he dropped his cigarette onto the sidewalk and mashed it out with his foot._

_“Just because you asked so nicely.”_

_Judy breathed a sigh of relief, and gave him a polite nod. “Thank you. Well, I guess you're one of my new neighbors, Mr...”_

_“Mace. Mace Monagan.” His voice was cold, and he straightened up, staring down at Judy. Mace's head blocked the rising sun, and his shadowed face took on a darker cast. “And I don't live here. So how about instead of making nice you hop along. Officer.”_

_He sneered at the word “officer,” adding it as if it were an afterthought._

_Judy swallowed and backed away. “W-well... it was nice to meet you.”_

_Judy panted as she took off running, the phone and earbuds in her pocket forgotten. She didn't feel like running to music at the moment. She just needed to run._

_Ever since she moved in her can of fox repellent had been just taking up space in her desk drawer. She might have to consider taking it out._

 

 

~~~~~

 

_“Last night we reached our thirtieth attack from a savage predator,” Chief Bogo said. He was strangely quiet today, and the uncharacteristic tone of the stoic buffalo, like he was deeply tired, left a somber mood in the air._

_A total of twenty-five predators had gone savage: ten in the eight days since Judy's disastrous press conference. It had become worse as the days went by. At first it was a weasel here, a wolf there. Then three predators went savage in the same twenty-four hour period. And last night a lion and a fox went savage at the same time, thirty feet from one another._

_When Judy learned that a fox had been involved she became frantic, but was tied up keeping a protest at Gazelle's pride rally from exploding into a full-blown riot. It was an agonizing two hours later when she'd learned that it wasn't Nick after all, though the relief was bittersweet knowing that someone else had been afflicted._

_Whatever was causing it was spreading. Once the savage predators at Cliffside were moved it was like a quarantine had been broken. Each day greeted everyone in Zootopia with dread. Who would be next, they wondered. The stoats they sat next to? The lion who jogged down your street at the same time every night? The badger who made your coffee?_

_Judy shrank into her seat, wanting to disappear. It wasn't her fault, Mayor Bellwether had tried to reassure her, and Bogo seemed to agree. The fact was, TV pundits on Hooves News had always made backpawed allegations against predators, and they would've jumped on the fairly obvious pattern that only preds had become savage even without Judy saying anything._

_But the truth was, Judy_ was _responsible. At that moment of that press conference nearly every eye in Zootopia had been on her, and that those that weren't saw the clip of her repeated on cable news and Ewetube for the next twenty-four hours. Hearing the phrase “primitive savage ways,” spoken in her own voice, made Judy ill. She'd tried a couple sessions with Counselor Whitetail, but they'd been of little help._

_“In addition to tranq guns and tasers now being mandatory sidearms,” Bogo continued, “We will have everyone retrain with live ammunition. Mayor Bellwether has been doing her best to resist the use of lethal force, but not everyone on the City Council agrees. Until they can come to a consensus, we had at least better ensure everyone is prepared.”_

_Judy gasped. Live ammunition? Shooting to kill? The thought of it made her even more queasy._

_“S-sir?” Judy piped up. “Is... is that really necessary? Tranqs and tasers have been able to subdue predators pretty effectively.”_

_“Not all the time, especially with the larger ones,” Bogo noted over the rim of his glasses. “Need I remind you that the lion is still at large? Two tranqs and somehow he still got away into the subway tunnels. The entire system is on lockdown until we can find him.”_

_It was true. For some larger preds tranqs took up to twenty seconds to fully kick in... more than enough time for a large mammal to do substantial damage. A rare few seemed to be even more resistant._

_“But sir, I'm...” this was the last thing Judy wanted to bring up, but the thought of possibly having to kill a predator, even a savage one, was too terrible to contemplate. “I'm too small for standard-issue firearms. The recoil...”_

_Some of the larger mammals in the room chuckled. She'd worked so hard to be taken seriously as a police officer, pushed back against all the stereotypes about her size and strength and her temperament as a bunny. But she let them laugh. So long as she wouldn't have to put her paw on... on one of_ those _. It still rankled like the dickens, though._

_“You're in luck then, Hopps,” said Bogo, though he didn't seem two happy about it. “We were able to acquire an RGS-14 just for you.”_

_Judy wasn't interested in guns, but everyone knew about the RGS. Only twenty manufactured, and twelve of those in the possession of one other rabbit. Ultra-fine, low-weight custom shells that were designed to pierce the toughest hide, padded grip and internal countershells to redistribute the momentum of the recoil..._

_“Heh, 'Jude Savage.' I like the sound of that,” Hornsby murmured. She glared at him._

_On the gun range Judy wondered if Bogo had wanted to punish her, keep her out of his fur, or if he genuinely saw this as him trying to help her out. The fact was she hadn't been very effective in crowd control, being able to manage only the smallest prey from coming to blows, and they weren't the main contributors to any violence. Maybe Bogo had hoped that a day spent in training would've helped her cool down._

_The RGS-14 was bulky in her grip, much more so than the tranq gun she'd been issued since the crisis began. The recoil was at least five times worse too, and Judy had to learn how to plant her feet and use a support paw. How Jack Savage managed was a wonder to her. Little by little though, she grew accustomed to shooting at a nonmoving target._

_She now carefully wove through the nine-house training block that'd been set up on the outskirts of town, originally designed for Razorback training._

_A plywood cutout of a snarling tiger popped into view on the corner, next to the tailor shop. In an instant Judy swung into a forward stance, leaned over her front foot to brace herself, and with two paws on the gun she fired. A red light flashed over the target's head, indicating that it'd been struck there._

_Judy had almost fallen over on her tail, but she swung around and took aim the moment she heard the whisk of pneumatic machinery. A cutout of a bear popped up this time, rearing up to its full height. The crack of gunfire sounded dull through the earplugs, but once again a red light flashed on the bear's chest. Another kill._

This isn't so bad... _Judy thought to herself._ This is just training. This is just a precaution.

_A deer strolling down the street. Judy held back._

_A stoat, mouth foaming and claws outstretched. She fired, another kill._

_A hedgehog looking surprised. Judy turned away._

_A squat little sheep carrying a Bug-Burga bag, of all things. Judy just gave it a funny look and moved on._

_A wolf, its eyes wild and crazed, lunging towards her. She put it down. The recoil rang through her paws and a hot ache seeped through the joints of her wrists and shoulders._

_And when she rounded the corner, a cutout of a slender fox popped out, mouth open as if it were about to tear her open._

_Judy gasped, and though she raised her gun reflexively, something held her back. In that split second of hesitation however, another pneumatic hiss sounded, and a pellet shot out of the hole at the base of the cutout._

_Judy was thrown onto her back from the hit. The impact rang through her skull, and the paintball spattered her safety glasses with a broad blue splash. For a moment though a dozen colors seemed to dance in her eyes._

_Judy groaned, when her earpiece crackled and the last voice she'd ever wanted to hear, a voice that she hadn't heard in this tone for months, boomed through it._

_“Savage fox! You're DEAD, hippity-hop!”_

 

 

~~~~~

 

 _“_ Look Mr. Urston, you can be as politically correct as you want while innocent mammals are being mauled in the streets, but facts are facts, _” Billy Goat-Reilly said, wagging a finger at his grizzly bear guest. The old goat had a voice like a jackhammer, and he'd made a career out of shouting over anyone who dared disagree with him._ _“_ The predator community has _never_ truly accepted the basic social mores that make civilized mammalian society function. You have wolves forming packs in the slums of Downtown Zootopia...”

“But the economic-” _Urston tried to interject, but was bowled over by Goat-Reilly once more._

“Foxes and weasels refusing to pursue honest careers and instead forming the gutter trash class of criminals in our fair city!”

“If they're given a chance-”

“Bears- bears, such as yourself! Dropping out of school because they know they can always get hired as muscled goons when they're older. It's no wonder they're going savage left and right, they've chosen to live like primitives their whole lives!”

“Look Billy, no one is denying that the crime statistics for predators can be dire. But you're jumping to wild conclusions when you're claiming that this is somehow a biological component.”

“I never said that!” _Goat-Reilly said firmly._ “I said absolutely nothing about biology. I expected more than this typical left-wing claptrap. You don't get to play the species card here.”

“Billy... the fact is that all these accusations you're leveling-”

“Facts! Not accusations.”

“-are the result of Zootopian social networks failing them on the ground. Wolves in the poorer parts of Zootopia form packs as support networks when welfare programs are insufficient. The majority of foxes and weasels are law-abiding citizens. If they do end up resorting to crime they do so because many employers will never give them a chance at a real job. Pred Pride is about showing that not only do we predators have a right to exist on our terms, but the reason that we must do so is because in many cases society refuses to recognize our unique needs and the prejudices we suffer under. Predators have been the victims for far too long.”

“Oh please, the _real_ victims are the ones who've been killed and mauled by these savage attacks! Shall I list off their names?”

_Judy had been quietly sitting in the corner of the lounge, idly poking at her beetroot salad, the harsh drone of The Goat-Reilly Segment blaring away. Three sheep officers were sitting on the couch, eating their alfalfa loaves as they listened to the talking heads badgering each other._

_Savage Syndrome had been raging for two weeks now, and it seemed as if Zootopia might just collapse at any moment. The Razorbacks had been deployed, though Mayor Bellwether had them armed with heavy-duty tranq darts... the stuff would paralyze five times faster than traditional tranqs. Problem was it paralyzed every skeletal muscle in the body, which ended up crippling a perp's ability to breathe. If a savage pred was taken down by one of those, medical crews needed to swoop in and keep them from suffocating. Even as the ZPD worked out solid deployment plans to keep civilians from getting hurt, the number of predators going savage simply continued to increase._

_Bellwether had imposed a curfew on predators for the time being, despite calls for more draconian measures. Some were pushing the City Council to authorize lethal force to put down savage preds. A few had even revived the idea of mandating shock collars for predators, like some had wanted to implement in the 40s and 50s. Just until a cure was found._

_Some hadn't been so civil._

_Bricks had been thrown through windows. Death threats had been issued against the participants of Pred Pride rallies. A pair of porcupines had been caught trying to set a tiger-owned curry restaurant on fire. A family of weasels had their house broken into while they slept, and were assaulted by a mob of sheep. With the ZPD stretched so thin though, no one had been able to investigate._

_The weasel father in the family was a public defender in the Hall of Justice._

_Part of Judy felt like she should just toss the remnants of the salad out. She'd only been able to manage a few mouthfuls, and she didn't have the appetite for more._

_“Hey we were watching that!” one of the sheep bleated as the channel flicked over to a basketball game._

_“Hooves News is garbage,” a tiger officer grumbled, setting down the remote. He sat down with a big tupperware container freshly pulled from the microwave, and stirred through his steaming curry._

_“He's tellin' it like it is!” the sheep snapped, “Come on, show of hooves, who says Kaplan's gotta change it back? Hopps, you in on this?”_

_“Wh-” Judy started, looking up from her bowl. “I... look, we can just watch the game. Something everyone can enjoy.”_

_“Oh come on!” said the sheep. Judy hadn't gotten to know him yet, but everyone in the precinct certainly knew her. It made for a lot of lopsided introductions. “You aren't gonna tell me you're siding with the pr-”_

_“Bro, no,” one of the other sheep said, laying a hoof on the first one's shoulder._

_The one who started this whole thing looked nervously at the tiger then, and his body seemed to tighten beneath all that wool._

_“Fine. I lost my appetite anyway.”_

_The three sheep packed up the remnants of their alfalfa loaves. As they passed by Kaplan on the way out though, one of them slid a hoof along the table and knocked his tupperware onto the floor. Bright orange curry, rice and toasted beetles spattered onto the linoleum._

_“Hey!” Judy shouted, jumping out of her seat. “What did you do that for?”_

_Judy bounded over to confront the three sheep, when the tiger spoke._

_“It's fine, Hopps. Just leave it alone.”_

_He hadn't moved a muscle. He'd barely flinched. Instead he'd held himself rigidly in place, stiff and quiet as a statue. And that was when Judy realized that he didn't dare stand up for himself. He didn't dare get angry. The tiger, and so many other predators these days, had to be on their best behavior, because the slightest word of protest at the injustice of it all could risk them getting branded a savage._

_“No,” she said, standing straight up before the sheep. “No it's NOT fine.”_

_“It's okay,” Kaplan said again. It was haunting how calm he sounded. “Really Hopps, just let it go, please.”_

_Only when the sheep left, and after a silent count to ten, did the tiger move. Kneeling on the ground he scooped the mass of ruined curry into the tupperware and tossed it out. Judy helped grab a few more paper towels for him._

_“I'm... I'm sorry that happened,” Judy said as she helped wipe the floor. She wanted to cry, seeing what just occurred right in the middle of the ZPD. Sure bunnies back on the farm might've been a bit... old fashioned when it came to their views on interspecies interactions, to put it lightly. But they never would've started something like this. Much too polite, for one._

_Judy tried to put on her brightest smile. “Please, let me buy you lunch. We'll go down to the cafeteria.”_

_The tiger smiled back, but it was only a faint curl of his mouth, not daring to show his teeth to a bunny. His eyes were big and blue, and sad._

_“Thanks, Hopps. I'm Benjy. Benjy Kaplan.”_

_Judy tilted her head then. “I've seen you somewhere before, haven't I? Not just here at the station I mean. You look really familiar.”_

_Benjy blushed through his fur._

 

 

~~~~~

 

_Judy was tired._

_Every day it'd been the same thing. Doctors kept trying to puzzle out what was happening, but the underlying cause still evaded them. It was impossible to keep a savage lion still enough so they could scan it in an MRI, and sedating him for the scans was meant that they couldn't see what was happening in his brain while he was awake. Attempts to isolate a virus, bacterium, or parasite hadn't been fruitful either. As for those trying to make the genetics argument..._

_Judy stopped off at the juice bar on her way home. She needed something to help calm her nerves, and a carrot-ginger smoothie was the perfect thing to keep her on this side of sanity. As she walked home though she saw a familiar figure down the street ahead of her._

_Mace Monagan. The teenage wolf who'd been loitering at the front of her apartment building the first week she moved in. There he was in his pleather jacket, strutting down the sidewallk like he was saying “Hey, my ancestors used to wear the skins of you prey. Better watch your back, bunny.”_

_Each paw held a large tote bag, and that was when Judy remembered what he'd said in their first encounter. “_ I don't live here. So how about instead of making nice you hop along. _” So what was this guy doing in the neighborhood?_

_She kept her distance behind him as the both of them headed to the Pangolin Arms. Yet when Mace reached the corner she saw that an elderly beaver had been waddling along ahead of him. His massive frame had just blocked her from Judy's view._

_She blinked curiously as the beaver let the two of them in. The door closed behind them long before Judy reached it, but if the walls to the Pangolin Arms were paper-thin, the doors weren't much better. She could hear the commotion easily. Not wanting to butt in however, Judy simply crouched near the stairs and waited for a chance to slip past._

_“I'm sorry Auntie June, but... I really can't help you with your groceries anymore. I'll try to get a friend to give you a paw instead.”_

_“I'm guessing this friend of yours would be a prey mammal then?” Mrs. Beaverwitz said with a derisive snort, “How's he going to enjoy my chocolate cricket cookies?”_

_“Please, Auntie. It isn't safe anymore.”_

_“I've gotten along with your family for fifty years. Don't you be listening to those idiots who've been going on about this savage predator nonsense.”_

_“I... I can't help it. There's something inside us. It's in all of us and-” Mace's voice cracked, he started to sniffle as he continued, “-and it... it could happen anytime. Anywhere. I don't wanna hurt you, Auntie June but... sometimes... sometimes it feels like it'll come out and...”_

_“No. No I'll have none of that, young man! Now you come inside for some tea and cookies, and once you've calmed down properly I'll send you off. I swear you boys are more afraid of yourselves than prey are of you.”_

_“No I can't... I can't...” Mace was sobbing now, and with his footsteps hammering against the creaky floorboards he burst out the front door and started running down the street._

_He had gone no more than three steps before he smelled it._

_Turning around, nose twitching, he saw Judy staring at him, her paws clapped to her mouth. Though she hadn't intended this, she'd inadvertently eavesdropped on something deeply personal. Mace's face twisted, red with rage and tears and humiliation, but he turned around and ran off into the night._

_A walking stick clattered at the staircase, and Judy looked up to the old beaver looking down at her._

_“Well. I just lost my company for the next hour. Would you like some tea, Officer Hopps?”_

_Even though she had a half-finished carrot smoothie in paw, Judy couldn't find a polite way to turn down Mrs. Beaverwitz. Grandpa Hopps always had hundreds of grandkids to keep him company at the Burrows. She couldn't imagine how terribly lonely it must be for Mrs. Beaverwitz, living by herself at her age._

_Though Judy had offered to help in the kitchen, the old beaver shooed her off and insisted she do everything herself. “An old lady has got to feel useful, you know,” she said as Judy sat at the kitchen table. “Now I have some lemon squares as well, but they've just finished setting in the fridge and I'll need a moment to cut them out. I set some cookies out but they aren't exactly prey-friendly.”_

_“It's all right,” Judy said, “I'd be happy to try one. I've had bug protein before.”_

_Granted, it'd been one of those lunchtime dares from a snow leopard classmate back in the fourth grade. It wasn't all that intimidating to her, but it wasn't something she exactly cared for either. Still, Judy had the feeling that Mrs. Beaverton needed someone to appreciate them tonight, and so she tried one. It tasted much like a normal chocolate chip cookie, though with meaty bits that Judy tried pretending were just nuts._

_When Mrs. Beaverton finally poured out tea for the both of them, she smiled at Judy._

_“If I remember correctly, you and Mace had a run-in a few weeks ago, right?”_

_Judy blinked. “Uh, you... knew about that?”_

_“Oh I'm not deaf, dear. I told him you deserved an apology for how he treated you, but boys his age have such a hard time admitting they were wrong. He was quite ashamed of his behavior when I gave him a talking to though... I hope you understand.”_

_“Oh ha! Yes, it's quite all right,” Judy mulled it over. “Is he... is he trying to be an Alpha?”_

_“Boys his age always want to be one,” said Mrs. Beaverwitz. “His father is the Alpha in their neighborhood. I've told Mace that if he wants to be an Alpha he can be an Alpha. But there's nothing wrong with being a Beta, or even just an ordinary member of the pack. Once he turned thirteen though he began to strut around the school showing he could out-muscle the other wolves. There's a difference being strong and being a bully though. The boy's still learning that.”_

_“Um, I hope it's not rude to ask but... how did you and Mace become... close?” Judy asked just as Mrs. Beaverwitz passed her a lemon square. At this point though Judy was just glad for the friendly company. The other officers had warmed up to her significantly ever since she found the missing mammals, but given the tense atmosphere she had trouble getting close to anyone at the precinct. Most of the prey mammals tried to support their predator cohorts in blue, but that support was becoming more strained by the day. Extending a paw to Kaplan had helped, but though he was perfectly cordial towards her he was a bit of a loner._

_“Married into the family, dear. Well, not officially, given the law being what it was at the time. You know how it goes.”_

_Judy wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, but she smiled and said simply, “Well I think it's great that you were able to find a partner in Mace's...” Grandfather? Great-uncle?_

_“His great-aunt Remia, bless her,” she replied. “Hard enough for a prey and predator to have a relationship in the 60s, we had to be queer too. You wouldn't believe the jokes they made behind our backs about munching beaver.”_

_Judy blushed. She certainly didn't have a problem with that sort of thing, especially since she lived next door to Bucky and Pronk. It was just a little difficult to imagine someone of Mrs. Beaverwitz' age in that situation. “O-oh. Well! You must have a lot of stories! Growing up in the middle of the big civil rights era and all.”_

_“Oh your generation has its own battles, dearie. Sure I burned my bra right in the middle of Savanna Central and all, but well... this whole savage nonsense,” Mrs. Beaverwitz wrinkled her nose. “It's a big step backward for you kids.”_

_Judy's ears wilted and she slumped into her seat a little. She could feel the pit of her stomach sinking, and it was full of crickets and chocolate chips. Not a pleasant feeling, that. “I'm... I'm sorry.”_

_Mrs. Beaverton blinked over the rim of her cup. “Whatever for, dear?”_

_“I... I never should've said those things at the press conference. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I really wish I could just take it all back.”_

_“Oh yes that was stupid for sure,” Mrs. Beaverton said as she took one of the cookies. Judy was shocked at her bluntness. “Oh don't look at me like that. After all the crap I've lived through I don't have the patience to pull my punches. But frankly what you said that day was what plenty of prey have been thinking for years. Especially if they watch that awful Goat-Reilly. You just had the misfortune of saying it first.”_

_“I'm trying to help fix things,” Judy said, giving her lemon square a disinterested poke. “Just the other day one of my fellow officers was being mistreated. He's a tiger, and these sheep they... I had to step in.”_

_“Well, that's all you can do, dear. Just try your best.”_

_Judy just wasn't sure that her best would be enough._

 


	6. Old Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick gets his session with Dr. Conall, and a teenage fox runs into trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains R-rated depictions of violence and adult humor. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are the property of Disney.

“I think I know the place,” Nick said as he picked up a Tigrian delight. Clove and star anise? He took a bite. The spices were a bit too much for his senses... they drowned out pretty much everything else, and he wasn't a fan of the cashews mixed in either. He washed it down with a sip of tea. At least the tea was good.

“How you you like it?” Conall asked. “I had a feeling it might suit you.”

“Excellent choice. Delicious,” Nick said as he kissed his fingers. “That's definitely from Eastern Sun Confectioners. Tell Mama Keya she's done it again. Mind if I had another?”

Conall nodded as Nick made a show of eating another piece. It helped to be polite. He took another generous sip of tea to help wash it down.

“So you said this was just an evaluation?” asked Nick.

“Yes. And again, if we come to feel that you may require professional aid, you are free to shop around for a therapist that may suit you, but I would be more than happy to take you on as a patient.”

Nick looked Conall up and down. He was lanky for a wolf, a little too erudite and well-mannered. He knew what Dr. Isaac Conall was about already. Nick was pretty good when it came to figuring out most mammals' backstories. A con man needed to read his marks in an instant, adjust tactics to the situation. But Conall was an open book to him.

The guy had been the runt of his litter, definitely. An Omega for all his teenage life. Nick couldn't quite tell if he'd been smacked around by mommy or daddy... usually that sort of thing stood out. But there were no family photos on his desk, walls, or countertops. There was just his tea set and neatly arranged pens and papers. Usually wolves liked to keep reminders of their packs with them. If they got along, that is.

But if he had been put through the ringer in his youth he'd smoothed out all the rough edges once he escaped the den. Probably didn't like thinking about his home life in his younger days. Conall must've been really good too, given that he was a wolf. Being able to break down a character and figure out their individual pieces, the whole career of being a psychologist, wasn't really suited for them. Only a wolf with real exceptional grit, talent, and determination would've been able to get himself through medical school twenty years ago.

Not to mention that Conall was likely the type that would've wanted to put as much distance between himself and the old-school pack mentality he grew up in. Nick wondered what that meant for his client base. He said that he worked more with other preds... probably not wolves if Nick's hunches were right, and that he was sick of dealing with pack life shit.

“So Nick,” Conall said, “how are you sleeping?”

“Surprisingly well, all things considered,” said Nick. Though it wasn't completely true. One night he'd had a nightmare of him being caught by Judy's family in her bed. They'd dragged him out into the carrot field naked, tossed the noose around his neck, and yanked him up into a tree as he kicked and twisted in the air. And then it turned out it was an effigy of a fox in flames hanging from that tree, while Nick watched from a distance and wondered if leaves could burn in that surreal dream-logic of the time. He'd doubled up on the caffeine that morning, and had to run into the nearest drug store to get his blood pressure tested soon after. His heart had been racing so fast that it felt like he was going to keel over right then.

“I mean I kinda suspected I'd be reliving the brawl, maybe get some flashbacks. That's what happens to some veterans, right? They hear a car backfiring and suddenly they think they're in the jungle fighting Katmatist guerillas or something,” Nick leaned back, scrubbing a hand through his fur. “But nope. Nothing quite like that. I don't remember my dreams from the last few nights, so I guess there was nothing _really_ bad. Sleep routine hasn't changed much either.”

Dr. Conall nodded. “All right. Now, please tell me about your experience at the Lone Digger. What went through your mind when you found yourself in that situation? How did you feel?”

“What can I say?” Nick shrugged, “Honestly, it was confusing. So many things were happening at once... four perps coming at us from different angles. I did my best to keep my cool, though. Frankly, I think I did pretty well for a rookie. Gotta thank Kaplan for loaning me the sidearm, though. I didn't know he carried when he was off-duty.”

“You don't recall what you felt through it all?”

“It's...” Nick started. He didn't want to think about it.

It was the Night Howler attacks all over again, he'd thought at the time, even though he hadn't known that Blue was actually involved. Preds going crazy, trying to murder everything they saw.

When he tried to process it afterward he couldn't help but think back on what'd happened only months ago. At the height of the epidemic Nick had tried to get back into the hustling gig, but a bunch of his suppliers had become increasingly nervous about dealing with a fox, even if it was his charming old self. Plus Finnick had decided to hole up in his van, nervous about getting harassed by angry prey looking to curbstomp the nearest pred that was small enough to handle.

Without a solid cash flow Nick had been forced to live off of the emergency fund he kept in an old coffee tin, settling back to just one meal a day and keeping the booze intake to a minimum. He'd had to endure lean times before, but up until the Night Howler fiasco he'd always been able to plan ahead for the next con. Now no one trusted him.

At first he'd been mad at Judy. For the first time in his life he'd trusted someone. He'd opened up to her about one of the darkest moments in his young life. Maybe natural enemies _could_ get along like she'd wanted to believe, he'd started to think. Maybe someone could see him as something other than Slick Nick.  Maybe he could be more than just a shifty, untrustworthy fox in the eyes of other mammals.

And then she'd stepped up onto that podium and made the biggest blunder the city had ever seen.

He hated her. Hated her stupid dewy purple eyes. Her sweet bunny smell. He hated that chipper oh-so-open-minded attitude when the fact was she knew _nothing_ at all.

But then the number of savage predators began to stack up. The bodies began to pile. The photos and videos began to spread online of victims bleeding in the streets, of mammals strapped to gurneys and being rushed to the hospital. Preds who'd been scratched and bitten were taken into quarantine, lest it was some infection that was spreading. No one could access them, no one could interview them, and the politicians of Zootopia refused to provide any answers as to what had happened to the injured bystanders. For a while, it was as if they'd vanished completely. Some conspiracy theorists believed they'd been euthanized.

And so Nick, like so many other predators at the time, began to wonder if preds like him really _were_ the problem after all.

“I suppose... it kinda reminded me of my father,” Nick lied.  Deep down he was a bit impressed with himself. It'd been quite a while since he'd had to think on his feet. Lying was a skill like any other really, and it needed to be honed routinely. “It was complicated, y'know? Living in the slums by the docks. Dad always had a hard time. He really wanted to live a clean life as a fox, but things just didn't go his way.”

What would've happened to him if he'd gone savage, Nick wondered back then. Would a part of himself be aware of what he was doing? Or was the savage state the real him deep down inside, snarling to get out? Maybe... maybe there _was_ a feral beast inside him that he'd been suppressing his whole life.

And then the nightmares came. Her dewy purple eyes would be glassy, staring into nothing. Her sweet bunny smell was tainted with the metallic scent of blood. Her body was his now, and her flesh was so sweet...

“Sometimes Dad would come back home from the bar and... and he'd start shouting. He was so much bigger than me, just like the perps that night in the bar.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” said Conall. “How is your relationship with him today?”

Nick remembered waking up in a cold sweat, then curling into a little ball and trying not to hyperventilate as he tried to forget the dreams, tried to forget Judy dead in front of him, forget the blood dripping from his muzzle. He didn't mean to, he didn't think it could happen to him. _Oh God please tell me how I can fix this?_ He'd pleaded in one dream cradling her mangled body. _Please give me a chance and let me fix this!_

He thought he'd left those nightmares behind, but then the Lone Digger breathed life into them once again.

“Dad died when I was eleven,” Nick shrugged. “I've tried to forgive him. I knew that he wasn't a bad guy. Even when he smacked me up a little he was just angry at himself. At how the world had treated him. Mostly now I remember him for the good times. Me and him playing ball, riding on his shoulders, the time he hoped to start a father-son business...”

 

~~~~~

 

Isaac mulled over his last session as he cleared the teacups and gave them a quick wash in the sink. Leaving the porcelain to dry he returned the little jugs of milk to the fridge, tucked away the sugar and tea bags, and returned the remaining clove and star anise Tigrian delights to the box next to the one he had initially picked out for Nick.

In truth he'd only switched them out at the last minute. Foxes often preferred fruit flavors, and the blackberry delights he bought would've likely suited Nick's palate quite well. The mix of spices in the clove treats would've been exotic for a ram or rabbit, but for a wolf or fox the aroma would've been much too sharp.

Isaac felt slightly ashamed that he'd played a poor host for that moment, but it had been important to gauge Nick's reaction. Wilde had been quite a masterful liar when he declared the spiced confections delicious: no obvious tells, and even the subtle ones were almost too faint for Isaac to pick up on consistently. But it'd helped set a baseline for detecting any further attempts at prevarication on Nick's part.

By the end of it Conall could almost sniff out the little deceptions when Nick spoke. There was a subtle earthiness to his lies, almost unctuous, like the scent of olive oil.

While Isaac hadn't been able to tease out the fox's true underlying problems in that session, it'd at least been a riveting game of cat-and-mouse: Nick had tried to to read him in turn, and he'd sprinkled just enough half-truths into his testimony to make it sound convincing, distracting the matter with some made-up history of an abusive father. Child abuse was real meat for a psychologist to deal with, Nick must've known. Else why dangle it in front of him to divert attention from his true feelings about the Lone Digger?

An excellent liar truly, and one who knew how to dance the line between sounding just disturbed enough to be a convincing reaction to seeing a bloody crime scene, and not so traumatized that he'd need further therapy.

Isaac sat down at his desk then, and opened Nick's file.

 _Requires further evaluation_ , he wrote in his patient notes. _Recommend extended leave from law enforcement duties_.

 

~~~~~

 

Tommy Daywood's ears wilted as he stared into the nearly-empty fridge. He'd hoped that there was at least a link of mealworm sausage left, or a slice of the peach cobbler his mom had made. But then he'd remembered that he'd finished off the cobbler for breakfast, and mom must've had the sausage for lunch.

Things always ran out towards the end of the month. The fridge had been emptied of fresh fruits and vegetables long ago, while the less perishable items became carefully rationed as the days wore on. Tommy's teachers had some idea of what he was going through. He'd often have to skip lunch at times like this, and often when Mrs. Trunkaby noticed she'd share a bit of her sandwich with him, claiming she was on a diet. Tommy knew what was going on of course, and though he'd been taught to never become a charity case a growing fox needed all the nutrients he could get. Besides, Mrs. Trunkaby's sandwich was massive, and the generous wedge she gave him was basically half a mouthful for her.

It wouldn't be until Monday that their food stamps would come in, and until then Tommy would just have to depend on the old standby.

Just yesterday mom had found that the last few slices of bread had grown too much mold for them to shave off, so Tommy just ate his peanut butter straight out of the jar. He hated peanut butter... too many end-of-the-month meals like this made the taste of it bitter with desperation and stress. It was filling though, and would give him enough energy for the walk to Jeremy Woolston's house.

Once he was finished Tommy washed his spoon and left it on the rack to dry. His backpack was next to the couch, and his mother was sprawled over the seat, her slim chest rising and falling in a soft rhythm. She was still in her waitress uniform. Her arm dangled over the edge, brushing against an empty plate. Tommy sniffed. Rice and canned tuna. They had tuna? He'd have to check the cupboards again when he came back.

Tiptoeing past her he carefully picked up his backpack, when his mom sighed.

“Mmm... Tommy?” she murmured.

“Yeah mom,” he whispered. “I'm just heading out to Jeremy Woolston's house.”

“For what now?” she asked sleepily.

“Homework project, remember? We've got a report on The Great Catsby.” It was a bit of an awkward situation, a fox being paired off with a sheep for a class report.

“Oh, right...” she murmured. “Be careful, Tommy...”

Tommy pulled an old quilt over his mother as she slept, and she rolled herself up in it with an exhausted little smile. Most kits learned to resent their parents around Tommy's age, but he and his mother got along as well as anyone could.  She worked so hard to keep their lives in order, and she didn't deserve to have an angsty teen stomping around the house causing trouble.

Granted he'd had a few run-ins with the teachers back in middle school, but it was the normal harmless fox stuff he pulled just for attention.  That stopped right quick the day his frazzled mother had to come pick him up from the principal's office.  He'd picked the locks of his classmate's lockers, just to show that he could.  Nothing was stolen, and up until he got detention with the principal he'd thought himself very clever for pulling it off.  But the silence as his mom walked him home had burned the shame deep into him.  It wasn't the disappointment she'd felt so much as the fact that she'd been too tired to scold him. They both knew that that'd been punishment enough.

He did his best to keep his nose clean from then on out.

Leaning in to plant a kiss on his mom's forehead, Tommy then quietly made his way out. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, and once outside he pulled out the list of directions he'd gotten. Fourteen years old and he still hadn't gotten his first cellphone yet. He didn't need a fancy new one or anything, just some model that was a couple generations older. Those would cost maybe fifty bucks on eBray. Maybe for his birthday, his mom had told him.

Flock Street where Jeremy lived was a few blocks away. He'd never been to Jeremy's house before. Hell, they never even spoke to each other directly. They sat at the opposite ends of the classroom, and had totally different circles of friends. The guy seemed nice enough though, and he was glad when Jeremy proposed meeting at his house instead of the alternative. Tommy couldn't remember ever having had friends over... not at this time of the month at least. The home situation was just too embarrassing then.

Tommy had never been to this part the neighborhood before. The streetlamps didn't flicker, the garbage bins were all in neat rows along the street, and they had actual lawns: lush and green. Tommy supposed that hoofer neighborhoods needed some grass for them to feel at home. It was really nice, actually. Much less cramped than the street he lived on, and the sharp smell of freshly mowed lawns was so crisp and clean.

It was two blocks later that Tommy began to wish he'd drawn a map along with jotting down the directions, but in truth he'd always been a little lazy about that. It was no problem normally... he just needed to get his bearings.

A nighttime breeze gusted past Tommy, and his ears prickled at the chill. Pulling his hood up he traced his steps back. He was supposed to take a left at Cornucopia Drive... did he walk past it accidentally? He thought he might've seen Cornu Lane, but was that the same thing?

For a little while Tommy circled the block, correcting himself along the way. The houses might've been nice and clean in their neat little rows, but when they all looked identical it was much harder to navigate. Eventually he stumbled across Flock Street stretching out in both directions. Sighing, he turned right and hoped that he wouldn't have to backtrack again if it turned out that Jeremy's house was on the other end.

Tommy had passed by only a couple of houses when he felt a faint prickle at the back of his neck. Turning around, he saw a large, round figure in the shadows staring at him.

Tommy could feel his heartbeat quicken. The breath froze in his throat. At first the thought came to him that it might be Slender Ram, ready to drag his precious young self into the darkness with his tentacles. Ridiculous of course, but he was in an unfamiliar neighborhood and was gonna be about twenty minutes late meeting with Jeremy because he'd gotten lost. Of course he was going to be irrational and jittery.

“Hey fox,” the figure said in an aggressive, almost angry tone that was close to a growl. He stepped forward.

It _was_ a ram, quite normal and not at all supernatural-looking. His wool coat made him look thick and round like a great marshmallow. He would've seemed harmless, if large, but the eyes staring at him, with thick black bars for pupils, sent a shiver up Tommy's spine. The ram's face was twisted into a scowl, and his muzzle wrinkled, as if he smelled something filthy. “What're you doing here?”

“I- I'm just going to... a friend's house...” said Tommy. He was always the quiet one in class, and he wasn't very good around strangers. His words came out in a nervous stutter.

“The mammals here don't make friends with foxes.”

Tommy didn't know what to say to that. While they were pretty unimposing normally, this sheep was twice as large as Tommy. And there was the fact that he was a ram... weren't all of Bellwether's goons sheep? A couple had even been cops, right? Did this guy work for them or something? Had he been part of that conspiracy to try and get predators to murder each other?

For a little while the guy stared at Tommy. He was growing more unnerved by the second, and the creeping suspicion that something wasn't right with this stranger became more justified. He crinkled the sheet of map directions and stuffed his paws into his pockets, then started to turn away.

“Um... bye...”

“Hold it right there!” the ram snapped. Before Tommy could jerk away the stranger had grabbed his arm.

Black hooves dug into his wrist to the point of bruising, and Tommy yelped, terrified. He tried to pull away, but the ram bore down on him, snarling at Tommy to quit struggling. Those eyes with their bar-shaped pupils, like the eyes of some terrifying deep-sea creature, seemed to pin him in place.

In a panic Tommy did the first thing that came to mind: he swung out with his paw, claws extended.

The ram shrieked as Tommy raked him across the face, and the grip on his arm loosened. Though his nails were trimmed down he felt one scratching one of those freakish eyes. Pulling away Tommy ran, half-stumbling as he sped down the street. He was panting hard, and the cold night air felt like needles in his lungs. Tears spilled down his muzzle, and his heartbeat hammered in his chest.

Glancing back he saw the ram charging towards him.

Tommy's legs were shorter. He was weighed down by his backpack. He'd only had a few spoonfuls of peanut butter for dinner. The only advantage he had was the sheer terror feeding adrenaline into his veins. And still the ram was catching up. On these clean, orderly streets there was no place to hide.

So Tommy did the bravest thing he could manage.

“I give up!” Tommy yelped, turning around. He was still jogging backward, but against all his survival instincts he threw his paws in the air the way his mother had told him to if he ever got into trouble. “Please! I give-”

A pair of curved horns slammed into his body.

All of a sudden the ground seemed to fly away from beneath Tommy's feet. He was spinning in the air, the light of the streetlamps arcing across his vision. There was no breath left in him when he crashed into the concrete once more.

His insides had been churned up by the blow. Lying on his side, Tommy tried to breathe again, but something was moving inside him that shouldn't have been. It left a sharp pain digging into his side, and what little air he could drink in seemed to stutter through his throat.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He had a book report to do. He was already going to be late going to Jeremy's. And mom would need his help carrying groceries on Monday. Weren't they almost out of peanut butter? It wasn't so bad, peanut butter. Tommy thought he could learn to like it again.

“Wh-what'd I do wrong?” Tommy whimpered. He was twitching, trying to curl in on himself, but everything hurt and his body wasn't responding the way it should've. The tears were pouring out now, dripping onto the back of his paw.

“P-please... tell me... what'd I... do?” He coughed. Something in the back of his throat tasted salty. The world was beginning to spin, the street lamp he lay under was too bright. But then a shadow loomed over him, staring down at his small, broken body. Tommy whimpered.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Several blocks away in a run-down apartment, Mrs. Daywood curled up on the couch in her quilt. The scent of her son's kiss lingered on her cheek.  Though her life was a patchwork barely held together by the dint of her efforts, her dreams for now were sweet.

 

 


	7. Old Acquaintances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy get together. Upon hearing the bad news though, Nick has to consider slipping back into his old habits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains R-rated depictions of violence and adult humor. Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps are the property of Disney.
> 
> Cameo by Charlie from the excellent series, Pack Street: 
> 
> Original Comic: http://tgweaver.tumblr.com/post/145827420757/wannabite-starring-remmy-cormo-wannabite-noun  
> Story Series: https://pastebin.com/u/packstreet (Highly recommended, first chapters are on the bottom of the page)
> 
> I got tgweaver's permission to use Charlie, but whether they approve of this particular portrayal is another story. It was sheer coincidence for me to base the Lone Digger just a few blocks away from Pack Street (one of the train stations on the official Zootopia map). I also needed an opportunity for Nick to get involved, so I asked tgweaver if I could borrow Charlie for this purpose. Hopefully it fits.

For a long time Judy and Nick just sat across from each other, nursing their coffees. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, and the red-gold rays that spilled through the window seemed to light up Nick's fur with a rusty heat. He looked down into his cup, like he was thinking about something that'd happened a long time ago.

Judy reached out and laid her paw on his. He gave it a momentary glance, and no more. But still, he didn't flinch. He didn't pull away. Didn't try to break the tension of the moment with a dumb joke and put the conversation behind them. That itself spoke a lot for someone who kept his feelings on such a short leash.

“I... I don't care about that sorta stuff, Nick,” Judy said. She'd been aware of the old stereotypes between foxes and rabbits, but she hadn't known that those old fears still lingered quite so strongly. “You know that.”

“Yeah, I know, I know...” he said, still not looking up at her. “But you gotta admit people are gonna look at us and wonder what sorta control I've got over you. I mean, fox and bunny right? They'll be thinking 'oh sure they look like they get along in public, but behind closed doors I bet he...'”

Nick trailed off then. He couldn't bring himself to say it.

“Nick stop it.” Judy's paw tightened on his, “It's different now. Sure some mammals might think it's a little weird at first. And sure, there are some have the wrong idea about foxes, but things are changing. And change has gotta start somewhere.”

Without moving his head Nick's eyes flicked to the side, looking out across the coffee shop. Judy blinked and followed his gaze, and noticed a pair of giraffes surreptitiously looking at them and whispering to each other. He pulled his paw away from hers.

Judy didn't think. She didn't need to. Hopping up to stand on her seat she yanked on Nick's tie, pulling him forward over the table. His eyes shot wide open as Judy pressed her mouth to his.

“ _Mmfph!_ ”

For a while he perched there, tense as a coiled-up spring. The shape of his mouth was so different, so pointed that she could only kiss the tip, right beneath his wet nose. But Judy kept their muzzles locked, and little by little she felt him relaxing into it. He started to nuzzle back, their warm breaths danced across each other's fur. She could taste burnt coffee and the blueberry scone he'd left half finished, and that faint musky scent of fox.

Judy felt so giddy all of a sudden... it felt so naughty and yet so _right_ , that she let out a tiny giggle as she broke off with a soft _smeck_ sound. A bit of warm saliva lingered around her mouth.

“There,” she said, smiling. “If they wanna think someone's taking advantage, they might as well think it's me.”

Nick's ears were standing straight up, and his tail was fluffed out behind him. But he was smiling now, with that lazy little grin that usually he reserved for when he was screwing with her. It drove her nuts sometimes, but now it was just nice to see him smile again.

“You sure think highly of yourself, Carrots.”

“You gotta admit I've got some experience taming foxes.”

“I wouldn't go that far,” Nick chuckled.

They left the coffee shop paw-in-paw, Nick visibly relaxed now. The giraffes were making a point to look in any direction other than theirs. Good.

People on the street were definitely giving them more glances than they would if she was with another bunny, or if Nick was with another fox, but she knew it wasn't as bad as Nick had feared. They were an odd pairing, that was all, and Judy couldn't deny that at one point Nick was the last person she would've seen herself with. She even caught a goat hiding a smile as he walked past, like he was silently rooting for the two of them.

“Sooooo where to?” Nick asked. “I suppose this is kind-of-sort-of an official date now?”

“I was thinking my place if that's all right. We could order a pizza, watch a movie, and... maybe...” Judy trailed off.

“Huh,” said Nick, sounding slightly unsure. “O-okay....”

“Just see how it goes!” Judy chirped.

“Yeah, play it by ear.”

“Improvise.”

“See what the moment brings us.”

Half an hour later, an untouched veggie pizza was going cold on Judy's desk.

They lay snuggled up on Judy's bed, Nick's arms wrapped around her. They'd laid against each other before whenever they watched movies, the way friends would. But now Nick rested his muzzle on her shoulder, drinking in her scent as she laid on him, feeling his chest rising and falling with each breath. Now and again his bushy tail would lift an inch or two, then drop back down onto the sheets with a light thump.

Judy could've snuggled like that forever, but sitting up and straddling Nick's torso, she leaned in and kissed him again.

The first time Nick might've tried to play it off as Judy having drunk too much. The second might've been a prank to show up those two giraffes at the coffee shop. This time though, behind closed doors and with Judy's neighbors still out for the day, Nick had to know that her feelings for him were real.

When she finally pulled away Nick looked concerned.

“What's wrong?” she asked. Did she go too fast?

“Um... how far would you be willing to go? Because, y'know... I'm a little worried about the size difference...”

“I think...” she blushed. She knew her limits, but saying it out loud left her flustered. “Maybe... not all the way just yet...”

She'd definitely have to buy that fox-shaped toy she'd found online. For practice.

“And uh, I don't wanna scare you or anything but, when it comes to foxes...”

“I know about knots, Nick.”

“Oh. Well that covers all the bullet points, I guess.”

Judy giggled, and undid Nick's tie.

Judy's sense of smell wasn't as good as a fox's, but she loved his scent. Musky and earthy, masculine in a way she'd never known. It was so deeply vulpine. So much like Nick himself. She wanted to wrap herself in it.

Nick was so gentle in the way he held her, almost shy in his touches. Judy trusted him though. She trusted him with her life. And with each touch, each kiss, each little inch of cloth that slid away further to reveal bare fur, she was getting Nick to trust himself.

 _Don't worry, Nick. You can't hurt me..._ she was trying to tell him.

Soon paws that were hesitant and trembling felt along Judy's slim frame. A mouth that was almost frightened to peel back and reveal pointed fangs nipped gently along her shoulder. Judy let out a pleased chirp when he licked her along the nape of her neck. Nick's movements were getting smoother, he was growing more sure of himself, and gradually he began to treat her like she was his vixen.

It wasn't just the size difference between them. Everything about Nick's body had a different shape, even a different texture. His ears were short little wedges, his muzzle so pointed, his tail so poofy and long, his fur more wiry compared to her fluff. They spent as much time exploring the differences between them as they did trying to please one another. Yet all of the intrigue was just spice added to the sweetness.

Two hours later the two of them lay together in bed, with Judy little-spooned into a little ball. Their clothes lay in rumpled heaps on the floor next to the scattered wads of damp tissues. Nick had one arm wrapped around Judy's middle, and his paw clasped in hers. Their fingers were still faintly sticky.

“Whew...” Nick panted. His muzzle was planted right between her ears. “I've heard the locker room talk about bunnies, but it's still a bit of a surprise.”

“And what locker room talk is that?”

“A gentletod doesn't tell.”

Judy had to stifle a laugh. “You're so totally not a gentletod. You _are_ amazing though.”

“Oh I know, Carrots. I know that very well.” Judy could feel Nick smiling, until he went still all of a sudden. “This... wasn't your first time, was it?”

“No. You don't have to worry about corrupting an innocent little bunny,” said Judy. Though that was a bit of a half-truth. In reality she'd only ever gotten to third base a few times back in Bunnyburrow, and once she graduated high school she was too focused on becoming a police officer to date anyone, much less enjoy a proper rutting. Plus she was terrified of what'd happen if the pills failed or the condom broke... she'd have to give up on her dreams.

With Nick though there were no such worries, and plenty of benefits. For one she was really enjoying the wrap-around effect he had on her, being so much bigger. For another, it was kind of thrilling being with someone who had fangs and claws. There was just a taste of danger when they scraped along her fur or nipped gently at her skin. It'd set her heart racing so fast that Nick at one point had stopped, worried that she was going to have a coronary, until she calmed him down and told her it was a perfectly normal heart rate for bunnies.

A small shiver ran through Nick's body.

“Are you okay?” Judy asked, turning around. Those big green eyes didn't have the usual mischief in them.

“I'm fine, Carrots,” Nick murmured, then planted a kiss on her forehead. His kisses were so different... he could give her sweet little pecks like this one, or he could wrap her mouth around hers, almost as if he wanted to devour her. Yet he was so gentle, so considerate... she never thought Nick would treat her so delicately.

Judy knew she would like do it completely for the first time with Nick. She might've grown up on a farm, but she wasn't so old fashioned to think that saving yourself for “the one” was that big of a deal. Still, Nick being her first for real was such a nice, happy thought. She'd just need to prepare herself a little.

Oh gosh, was she going full-on predo?

Once you go fox, there's no putting it back in the box. But then again... was that a problem? She couldn't imagine being with anyone other than Nick at the moment.

“We should clean ourselves up,” Judy murmured, though frankly that was the last thing she wanted to do. She wanted to just lie here forever, cuddled by her fox and with the warm scent of their lovemaking bathing her senses.

“We really should,” Nick yawned.

“I've got Musk Mask,” said Judy. It was mostly for predators, to neutralize the smell after the act. It wouldn't do to just walk around in broad daylight advertising your recent romp in the sheets to any animal with a decent nose.

Nick shifted around her and squeezed her tight. “You've been waiting for this for a while haven't you?”

“Have I been?” Judy smirked. “Yes. Yes I have.”

 

~~~~~

 

When the post-coital sobriety first hit, Nick found that panic had crept in when the lust had receded. Did they move too fast, he wondered? When should he leave? Most of the time when he got a vixen to take him home they'd do the dirty, clean up, and cuddle for about half an hour before he felt obligated to make a graceful exit. If he hadn't passed out drunk in her bed, that is.

But most of those had been casual trysts, with his bedmates wanting a quick romp in the sheets rather than his charming company. Besides, Judy was Judy, and she liked her cuddles.

The fact that this was serious made him nervous, and he started to wonder if he'd done the right thing. He'd never been so close to someone before, never had a friend like Judy. Doing what they just did was such a risk, and all the what-ifs running through his head were driving him crazy.

But then she sighed, and she seemed so happy and content that Nick started to think it was all going to be okay. She should know the depths of his neuroses by now. Or at least, she should suspect enough to be able to handle his issues.

They took it nice and slow over the next couple days, easing into the transition from being close friends to something more. There was a little fumbling along the way of course, though it was as much due to their age gap as it was due to their species. At this point in their lives they just operated on totally different rhythms. Nick was slower, more planned about these sorts of things. Judy was more impulsive and energetic. Being able to meet in the middle when it came to hanging out (Nick still wasn't comfortable with calling it “dating” just yet) was their first challenge.

And then Nick noticed the little touches that they began to share, and which he would start to return. At first Nick had thought it was just her weird bunny habits rubbing off on him, but they felt so natural that it was almost like he was a smitten teenager again.

By the time Thursday rolled around the mammals around them could pick up the vibe immediately. Nick had gotten more sideways glances than he ever had from just being a fox in a decent establishment. When Judy noticed she would make a point of pulling him even closer, as if to say “Deal with it.” Nick for his part tried not to let it bother him. He'd been putting up with this crap for his whole life after all.

“Think you'd be willing to try fish?” Nick asked, smiling over his menu.

“I've tried bugs before, but fish is maybe a little step too far.” Judy's eyes scanned the menu. Alexei's Diner didn't offer many herbivore options. Borscht, seaweed salad, and a side of fries were all Judy could really hope for. But granted, the borscht was really good.

“How about shrimp? They're like the bugs of the sea.”

Judy winced. “That doesn't make them sound much better. And they're whole aren't they? I mean, with bug loaf at least the bugs are kinda hidden.”

“Well it's not like they've got spindly little legs or anything,” Nick leaned on the table and smirked. “Besides, after getting to know the taste of fox, seafood should be easy.”

Judy blushed, and gripped his muzzle. “Niiiick!” she hissed.

Nick chuckled and pushed her paw aside. She wasn't shy about being seen on a date with a fox. It was the sex talk that really got to her. Guess that was the country girl in her.

“All right, all right. I guess I'll have the fish and chips, side of popcorn shrimp. We can split the chips.”

“Bowl of borscht for me I guess,” Judy said with a shrug.

“Hey order for me will ya? I'm gonna use the restroom,” Nick said, standing up from the table. Judy smiled, and laid a paw on his arm as he left. That warm little brush of her fur was really nice... he wasn't quite used to returning the gesture, but he was definitely starting to like it.

Alexei's catered mostly to the polar bears here in Tundratown, but a separate restroom had been built for smaller mammals. It was just a single toilet and sink, so Nick locked the door behind him and unzipped. The extra-large blueberry smoothie he'd had earlier was gonna be going through him for the rest of the night.

Nick was halfway finished when he heard a soft rattling at the door.

“Hey! Occupado!” Nick called out.

The doorknob turned.

“Whoa whoa someone's in here!” he said quickly, shaking and bouncing in an attempt to finish more quickly.

Another fox slipped in then, and Nick's protests died in his throat.

Slim and graceful, she closed the door behind her and locked it again all casual-like, as if Nick wasn't just standing right there holding his cock. She wore a beige turtleneck sweater and gray pants, oddly demure for someone who'd just picked the lock to an occupied restroom and snuck in. Her ears were laid back, and her eyes were half-lidded so that she looked as if she might've been sleepwalking, or perhaps simply bored.

“Charlie?!” exclaimed Nick. He scrambled to tuck himself back in and zip up, a little too quickly.

Eep.

Doubled over and gripping the tip of his penis through his slacks, Nick let out a string of curses as Charlie leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette.

“Nicholas Wilde,” she said flatly. “I would've contacted you earlier, but you presented very few opportunities to speak to you with discretion.”

“Y-yeah, I appreciate that,” Nick hissed. He really needed some ice or something. “How are Al and the old crew?”

“As well as can be expected. I suppose congratulations are in order for your new, institutionally respectable social standing,” she blew out a puff of smoke. “A pity that the vicissitudes of life are not as generous to other foxes.”

Was... was she trying to guilt-trip him? Before he became a cop Charlie was always a welcome sight, even if she had a certain disregard for personal boundaries. Not that Nick minded too much... she helped keep him on his toes. Plus the proposals she used to come to him with were always profitable.

“Look, I'm sorry to hear about... whatever it is you're going through, but I'm out of the game now,” Nick said. The pain was finally beginning to recede, and he hobbled over to the sink to wash his paws. He gave his face a couple splashes for good measure. “And as I'm sure you know because you've apparently been stalking me- good job on slipping past my notice by the way- I'm in the middle of a date. So if you're planning some kind of hustle I wish you the best, but it's probably better if you leave me out of it.”

Charlie was next to the paper towel dispenser, and she yanked one out and handed it to him without prompting. “I'm afraid I have no other options. None that I can think of among my old partners and contacts at least.”

“I may be out of uniform but I've still got my badge on me, you old greasepaw,” Nick said as he dried his muzzle. “Look, it was nice seeing you, and I appreciate the fact that you chose not to create an awkward encounter between me and my date, but I really gotta go.”

“You really haven't heard, have you?”

Nick had one paw on the doorknob when he looked back at her. Ever since he and Judy laid things out on Tuesday he'd been too wrapped up to keep up to date on current events.

Charlie pulled her cellphone out of her pocket and scrolled through it a moment, then passed it over to him. The browser was open to a video from Hooves News. Nick played it.

 _“In the wake of the Lone Digger massacre, Jared Shepsfield, a ram living in the Downtown District of the city, was attacked last night by a fox,”_ said the reporter, showing one of those nice, middle-class neighborhoods that looked to be on the right side of the tracks in the area. _“Shepsfield says he was simply doing his civic duty when he noticed a suspicious mammal skulking in the neighborhood. According to him, the fox was moving down the street in an 'extremely unusual and aggressive manner.' Shepsfield suspected he was under the influence of drugs.”_

The ram appeared on screen then, wearing a gauze patch over one eye. _“Well, with all these stories about preds hopped up on Blue I was worried about the safety of the community, so I was just keeping an eye out for anyone who didn't belong. And there he was out in the middle of the night, hiding his face, lookin' like he was on something. Seemed dangerous.”_

 _“Shepsfield would be proven correct in that assessment. When the ram confronted the suspect, now identified as one Thomas Daywood, the fox attacked him and fled,”_ the reporter continued. A photo of a young fox came up then, probably from his Muzzlebook profile. He was wearing a burgundy hoodie and looking at the camera with a stoic, almost angry look on his face. Teenage males always hated smiling. Thought it made them look cooler. Here though, it made him look like just another delinquent predator.

_“Despite being injured Shepsfield pursued, and when Daywood pulled his paws out of his pockets Shepsfield claims he saw the young fox holding a weapon.”_

_“The fox just kept dipping his paws in and out of his pockets,”_ the ram was on screen again. “ _I didn't know what was going on. It looked like he had a knife, maybe even a gun. It was terrifying.”_

_“So Shepsfield did what his instincts told him to do: he rammed the suspect in the chest. Police are treating the case as an act of self-defense.”_

He paused the video then, unable to stomach any more. “What really happened?” Nick said through clenched teeth. He knew damn well that this was only half the story. It always was when it came to young preds, especially if they were of the vulpine variety.

“Tommy Daywood was fourteen years old,” said Charlie. Her squinty eyes and smooth tone revealed little emotion, “His mother says he was simply heading out to Flock Street to meet a friend for a homework assignment. His friend, one Jeremy Woolston, confirmed that he'd been expecting Tommy that night. There were no weapons on his person when the Downtown police came onto the scene eight minutes later. The ambulance took twenty-three minutes in total to arrive. In the interim he was cuffed and muzzled while unconscious and bleeding internally, left facedown on the sidewalk while the officers interviewed Mr. Shepsfield. Pigs.”

Charlie mashed out the stub of her cigarette against the tiled wall, and tossed it into the garbage. “To clarify, the officers were indeed of the porcine persuasion. Which made them particularly unsympathetic to the fox they left dying on the concrete. These details came out a day later on ZNN, but unfortunately corrections have only so much power against first impressions.”

“So... so he...” Nick covered his mouth and handed the phone back. Something ached in his chest. He could all too easily see his teenage self in the same position, lying on the sidewalk with the cuffs behind his back, the muzzle over his face. Given no chance to prove his innocence...

_“Is he gonna cry?” they laughed behind him as he scrambled out the doors, terrified._

He could see himself then, bleeding out into the streets, eyes going milky...

“Tommy is in critical condition. The doctors are unsure as to whether he'll pull through. Even if he survives however, with the way things are playing out, he'll likely be charged with criminal trespass or attempted burglary.”

“I'm not sure how you expect me to help,” Nick said, clutching his chest. His heart was racing. He could feel the pulse in his temples. It was wrong... it was... “I can look into the officers who arrived on the scene, see if I can dig up any dirt on 'em. But-”

“Our target is Shepsfield,” Charlie said sternly. “The officers can wait.”

“Wh- do you expect me to go vigilante?!” Nick hissed. As furious as he was the idea was laughable. Though about as laughable as the idea of him becoming a cop had once been. “What's in this for you anyway?”

“Isn't it enough to want to see the scales balanced?” said Charlie. She was looking at him now, and Nick could almost see a hint of her baby-blue pupils. “If you must know however, the matter is a personal one for me. And it's a personal matter for you as well.”

“What? Because he's another fox?”

“Because of his mother. Do you remember the diner we used to go to? The one on Fangston Lane? Perhaps you recall the waitress.”

“Ruby Marris...” Nick whispered. The memories were dim and bittersweet, something he'd tried his best to forget. He'd been so young then, a couple years out of high school, cocky and brash as he could be. He'd flirted with her for weeks, late at night when the diner was nearly empty. She'd come by with her earnest smile and pot of coffee, bringing him his waffles and fried oysters.

He still wasn't sure how he convinced her, but for a few happy months he and Ruby shared milkshakes, went to the movies, even had dinner at her place where she made the most amazing pancakes with jam. Then there'd been those precious nights in each other's arms, muzzles locked, her body warm and tight around him, her claws digging into his back as she panted against his cheek.

Her breath always smelled of cinnamon.

“She...” Nick gulped, staring off into the distance as long-buried memories resurfaced. “She wanted an honest life.”

He couldn't give it to her. Not then. Not when he'd lost hope of ever being anything more than what other mammals saw him as.

“Creatures like us tend to slip between the cracks of this city,” said Charlie, tapping the box of cigarettes in her paw as if pondering whether she wanted another. “Even Ruby and her son, who tried to walk the straight and narrow for years.”

“Ruby...” Nick murmured. God even thinking about her name hurt, after all this time. “It's... it's been so long. We don't know each other anymore.”

“Look at him, Nick. Look at him closely,” said Charlie, handing over her phone again. This time it displayed a photo of Tommy, in a candid shot of him rolling on the floor with one of his friends, a young antelope. He was laughing, his bright green eyes wide and innocent.

His bright green eyes.

Nick stared at the photo for a long time. If he was hurting before he'd suddenly gone hard and cold and brittle inside.

“You... you... mean...”

Charlie took the phone from Nick's paws then. “Like I said, you have a personal stake in the matter.”

Slinking over to the window she opened it to the alley outside. Fresh snow was drifting down onto the cobblestones. “I will be in touch, Nick. Expect a package in your mailbox. Do not attempt to contact me electronically... it would be best if we left no digital footprints connecting us.”

“Yeah... sure...” Nick murmured.

She looked back at him one more time. “Your new lover... Judy Hopps? The rabbit.”

“What about her?” Oh, that's right. He was having dinner with a rabbit.

“She seems... kind.”

“She is. And so much more,” Nick murmured.

Charlie nodded before she slipped out.

“I hope she makes you happy.”

For a few minutes more Nick stared at his reflection in the mirror. His ears drooped, his eyes seemed tired and sad. The last few days had been so wonderful, like a dream. But now he was just so tired while frustration and fury simmered beneath the emotional fatigue. He felt like he'd just come down from some high, and was strung out because of it.

For another ten seconds he let himself feel it... feel it all... and then as he always did he packed his feelings into a little box and turned the key.

Nick took a breath then, straightened up and adjusted his tie, willing the smile back onto his face. He consciously perked up his ears. He gave his reflection the ol' bedroom eyes. Yeah, that was it. There's the Nick Wilde we all know and love.

“Sorry to disappoint you, Charlie,” he said, still smiling at his reflection. “But I'm never happy.”

 


	8. Plots and Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick begins to plan how to enact retribution against Shepsfield, while Judy questions an old acquaintance about Blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I have a lot of fun writing in general, it was really fun writing this chapter and mulling over what Benjy's opinions might be, given that he's a pretty straightlaced by-the-book cop. Political arguments can and do strain relationships, but deep down Benjy IS a very chill and self-aware guy.

_“The fact is, Jared Shepsfield had every reason to be afraid. The Lone Digger Massacre occurred less than half a mile from his neighborhood. With all the stories this network has reported on about young adult predators getting high on Blue,_ _**murdering** _ _and_ _**raping** _ _each other in their savage frenzy, a responsible mammal like Shepsfield has the_ _**civic duty** _ _to ensure that his neighborhood is safe from suspicious individuals.”_

Nick sat in his underwear, munching on a cold eggplant sandwich as the Goat-Reilly Segment blared away on his TV. The curmudgeoney old hoofer was on one of his rants again, and his bombastic tone, suitable more for a carnival barker, stood out in stark contrast against his dignified dark suit and red tie.

_“Now, some may say that Mr. Daywood was only fourteen. That he was only a kid. That there was no evidence that he was high on Blue. Such objections have been raised by my colleagues on ZNN. And while I respect their right to hold such_ _**opinions** _ _, we need to keep the_ _**facts** _ _in mind: that a fox of his age has fangs and claws just like any adult. That the fox Thomas Daywood_ _**attacked** _ _Mr. Shepsfield with his claws. And that there is no blood test to detect the presence of Blue as of now, so we_ _**cannot** _ _rule it out as a factor.”_

The sandwich was cold, the eggplant had lost its crunch. Nick's mind was working so furiously that he could barely taste it anyway. So much shit had gone wrong, from the Lone Digger, to him finding out he had a son that he hadn't known about these past fourteen years, to that son possibly dying because some fucking speciesist ram thought any young fox on the street was a criminal.

He might never get to know Tommy. Never play catch, never give him a ride on his shoulders, never have stupidly beautiful dreams of starting up a father-son business...

And now Dr. Isaac Fucking Mohegan Fucking Conall had put him on extended leave.

 _“Daywood enthusiasts keep talking about an innocent kid, but when you look through his old school records you'll find that elements of criminality have been incubating in him for years. His school disciplinary records note that_ _ **just last year**_ _, Daywood was caught breaking into no less than twenty student lockers in the span of a single lunch period._ _ **Twenty**_ _!”_ Goat-Reilly's voice rose to a fevered pitch. _“Folks, this isn't some innocent young kit as Daywood enthusiasts want us to believe! We have the makings of a_ _ **master burglar**_ _here!”_

Even the one bright spot in the past week had been kinda ruined. With Judy back on patrol and Nick barred from the uniform until Conall gave him a psych clearance, he didn't get to have those long, exciting, often flirtatious days with her that he'd gotten used to. And now he was just sitting in front of the TV in his underwear, his fur flecked with crumbs like a slob. All he needed was a beer to smash against the wall and he'd be a real proper deadbeat dad.

_“So we need to ask the_ _**real** _ _questions: Thomas Daywood was half an hour late for his supposed appointment with his classmate._ _**What** _ _was he doing in the interim?_ _**Why** _ _did he pull his hood up?_ _**Why** _ _was he wandering around the neighborhood looking into the various houses at that time of night? Whatever the answer though, we need to remember: If Daywood hadn't_ _**dressed** _ _like a shifty lowlife,_ _**acted** _ _like a lowlife, had the_ _**criminal history** _ _of a lowlife, and_ _**savagely attacked** _ _Jared Shepsfield, Mr. Shepsfield would not have been forced to defend himself, and Daywood would not be in the hospital right now.”_

The remains of his sandwich made an unsatisfying _splat_ against the screen. As the bread peeled away, streaks of mayonnaise and mustard blended in perfectly with Billy Goat-Reilly's beard. Nick had had enough of this garbage.

The phone rang.

Nick's ears perked up at the unfamiliar tone. It was the disposable flip-phone he'd received, tucked in a yellow envelope and placed in his mailbox. Opening it up he fumbled at the buttons for a moment, normally used to swipe commands by now. With a beep the ringing stopped, and Nick held it up to his ear.

“Charlie?” he asked with flat expectation.

“ _Good afternoon, Nick. It's time to get to work.”_

 

~~~~~

 

Benjy was quiet as he and Judy drove to Highwatch Penitentiary. The fact that Nick had been put on extended leave pending another psyh eval had been a shock. Dr. Conall had been so nice and supportive, and her interview with him had been so laid-back. She hadn't thought Nick would've had any trouble. Being apart from him, after the past few days together... well, something just felt missing now.

She and Nick were usually able to work up some casual small-talk on patrol. If not, there was always a comfortable silence between them since they more or less worked on the same wavelength. Benjy on the other paw was quiet, reserved, staring straight at the road as he drove. Even when waiting at the stoplights his eyes didn't wander. Was it a tiger thing? Wait no, was that speciesist? She'd always been perfectly fine accepting the idea that bunnies tended to look around more since they evolved to be aware of predators, but...

“You okay Hopps?”.

Judy's ears flicked upward in surprise when Benjy spoke. If she thought she would've been more relaxed if he broke the ice she was wrong.

“Oh Benjy- I mean... Officer Kaplan. I'm... I'm fine, really. It's-” she paused, running over the list of things she'd been thinking about. “No, I'm not fine. Things just suddenly got complicated. There's this Blue thing and Nick being put on leave... and all of a sudden there's these news stories about this poor fox who got hospitalized because some ram saw him walking through his neighborhood at night and thought he was trouble. And now I'm worried about how Nick is dealing with it since that's pretty much exactly what happened when we first met.”

Benjy said nothing.

“I mean... when I ran into Nick for the first time I immediately assumed that just because he was a fox he was up to no good. I almost even pulled out my fox repellent on him. But he was... y'know. Harmless.”

Again, Benjy said nothing.

Judy sighed, and huddled into herself. For a while she sat there, staring ahead at the empty road as well, when she noticed Benjy glancing at her. She blinked and looked up at him.

“I'm listening,” he said.

“I... I don't even know what I'm saying now...” she mumbled.

Benjy sighed. It was a deep, heavy sound, the way a tiger breathed. “Look Hopps, I'm sorry we're in this situation. I know I'm not the most friendly of partners, but with Roarmirez quitting the force Bogo needed to team me up with _someone_.”

“Yeah I know...” Judy muttered. The three of them had, after all, performed pretty well together in the Lone Digger. She could see how Bogo felt it was a good fit.

“Look, normally when it comes to the personal stuff me and Roarmirez always kept our noses out of each other's business. I'm not saying that's how it's gonna be between us, it's just gonna be an adjustment is all.”

“Thanks, Benjy,” Judy said, finally smiling, just a little.

“No problem, H- Judy,” he said, focusing on the road once more. “So you just heard about Daywood huh?”

“It's awful, isn't it?” Judy stared out the window. Poor kit.

“Eh... I dunno. The fox did some pretty nasty damage to Shepsfield's face.”

Judy's ears went rigid when she turned to look at the tiger next to her. “What?”

“Look, all I'm saying is that nine times outta ten, when you get a call about a fox, generally they're in the middle of doing something they shouldn't be doing. It's just statistics, Judy. I don't know enough about Daywood, but I wouldn't assume he's innocent just because he's fourteen.”

“Wh- he was just a kit going to his friend's house!” Judy squeaked. She was furious. She'd thought Benjy was a nice guy but... she couldn't believe she was hearing this. “I thought you'd at least be a _little_ sympathetic to another predator!”

Benjy's eye narrowed then, and his voice was stern. “Hey, don't lump all preds into the same category. Tigers are tigers, foxes are foxes. I'm not saying it's biology or anything but there's just certain... tendencies, y'know? I mean the kid was caught breaking into a bunch of lockers wasn't he?”

“When he was twelve! And how does that justify anything Shepsfield did? He didn't know anything about that when he decided to shatter the kit's ribcage!” Judy gripped her seatbelt more tightly. If Benjy wasn't driving at this moment she might've punched him in the shoulder.

“Hey I'm not saying the situation doesn't suck!” Benjy snapped. Judy could almost feel the windows rattle. It really wasn't fair that a tiger could get so much louder than her. “I'm just saying we don't have the full story here! All I've got is what I heard on the news and five years of experience on the force. Daywood might've been innocent, but from what I've seen, a teenage fox with a criminal history like that was probably casing the neighborhood. We just don't have the full story.”

“Yeah that's convenient,” Judy leaned in, trying to make her voice sound harsh. She hated how no matter what she tried she could never manage to be menacing. “The only testimony we've got happens to be Shepsfield's. Tommy Daywood doesn't get a voice in this because Shepsfield and the first responders left him to bleed into his lungs for half an hour.”

The steering wheel creaked as Benjy's massive paws tightened on the leather. Judy almost saw a glint of his claws coming out. Intellectually, she knew that Benjy wasn't a violent mammal. He saved all that for sparring at the gym or for taking down violent perps. Yet she couldn't keep the terror from freezing her in place now that he seemed to be simmering in a cold fury.

Benjy's tone was like ice when he spoke again. “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this right now, Hopps.”

“Smartest thing you've said so far, _Officer_ Kaplan,” Judy said in a cold murmur.

They drove the rest of the way in a tense, brooding silence.

 

~~~~~

 

“Good t'meetcha, mate!” said the fox in a thick Pawssie accent. He heartily shook Nick's paw. “Marcus Asner, I'll be yer tech expert fer this romp. Gotta say, it's great to be able to work with a group of proper rogues again, eh?”

He was a few inches shorter than Nick, and quite paunchy beneath his burgundy polo shirt. They were in Marcus' basement apartment, surrounded by an array of computer monitors and laptops. Empty two-liter soda bottles and microwave dinner boxes were piled on the floor. If it weren't for the fact that the trays looked like they'd been licked clean, Nick would've been worried about ants.

Nick gave Charlie a sideways glance.

“Despite appearances, Asner is quite technically proficient in his craft,” she said without looking at him. “And he can be trusted. Called in an old debt he owed me from the Chez Cheese coupon debacle.”

Nick blinked and turned back to the portly fox. “YOU were involved in that one?”

“Eheheh... not one of my proudest moments,” Marcus admitted. “I owed Charlie big for pulling my tail outta that fire.”

“All those Squeaky Burgers...” Nick winced.

“I make a habit of choosing my partners carefully. Though that'd been a misstep I trust that Asner had learned his lesson since then,” said Charlie. “Now that the three of us are here, I do believe our combined talents will be sufficient for this endeavor.”

Nick took in the group: a specialist in networks and electronics, a professional burglar and sneak, and a con-man. Great.

“Are you sure this is enough?” Nick crossed his arms across his chest. “Think we might need a couple getaway drivers? An explosives expert? Maybe toss a circus acrobat into the mix? Oh or how about a pickpocket?”

“I'm sure the both of us have the latter well in paw, Nick.”

“You're making this sound like we're breaking into a vault!” said Nick. “We're talking about one sheep here. One bigoted, violent sheep who assaulted a kid! I could run a background check easily! There's gotta be something on him... domestic abuse, tax evasion, unpaid parking tickets! Do you know how much of a living hell someone could make of his life with the right information? We could probably even just leave him alone and the public would harass him into hiding!”

“You want to work within the system,” Charlie said flatly. “The same system that allowed him to get off on this flimsy self-defense excuse.”

“I want...” Nick paused. Judy believed in the system. Judy believed in _him_. And he'd done his best to stay the course and do things legit, the way she would've. But he could never adopt her sweet naivete. “I want to make sure we're not crossing a line here. You and me Charlie, we've always tried to only bend the rules because we know we can get caught. And the moment that happens, they won't be gentle with us if we've broken 'em.”

“I'm well aware of how little mercy the establishment powers have for mammals like us,” Charlie said flatly. “And if he lives, so will Tommy.”

“You're trying to guilt-trip me,” Nick growled.

“And you're trying to play it safe.” Charlie dusted the crumbs off of Marcus' bed and sat down. “Nine months ago you would've thought this proposal a great deal of fun.”

Nick had to admit it. This _did_ sound kind of fun. And the plotting they were up to was so deliciously familiar. It was like that time he found his old denim jacket in the corner of his closet, tried it on again and found it still fit. It was familiar and hearkened back to a different era in his life, though was perhaps out of fashion for him and a touch dusty from being packed away for so long.

“I'm in a different place now, Charlie. All of this... it seems like overkill.”

Charlie tilted her head then, and her eyes opened just a fraction of an inch, enough to reveal slivers of her blue irises. She seemed to be taking Nick in, as if she'd never truly seen him before. “We can't simply hope that Mr. Shepsfield will suffer legal retribution for something entirely unrelated. Nor can we hope that he'll be found guilty in the court of public opinion. So long as he suffers no fallout for attacking Tommy, he will walk free and embolden other predophobes. Worst case scenario, some trigger-happy predator takes matters into his own paws and turns him into a martyr.”

“So you're saying if we take him down, it needs to be done right,” said Nick.

“Precisely.”

Nick digested the thought for a good little while. Tommy Daywood. His son. Nick couldn't leave Tommy, not like his own dad did.

“Fine. But we play by the rules as closely as we can,” he said.

Charlie's eyes narrowed once more. “You've changed significantly, Nick.”

“Jeez I hope I have,” said Nick. “All right then, what's the plan here?”

“You're the con man,” said Charlie. “Making long-term plots against singular marks is your specialty.”

“Mmm good point,” Nick felt like he was stretching an old muscle he'd left unworked for months. He could almost hear the gears creaking as they began to turn in his head once more. “Well, first step of every good hustle is recon. So what do we know about the guy and what do we _need_ to know?”

“His address is 2213 Flock Street. Cell phone number, 882-555-1084,” Charlie said without hesitation. “His neighborhood was able to push through an ordinance to increase CCTV coverage four years ago due to concerns about burglary in the area. There are blind spots however, and it would be best to know what these are if we need to get in and out without detection.”

“Looks like that'll be my job,” said Nick. “I'll see if they caught the attack too.”

“Maybe we could release the footage to ZNN,” said Marcus, “If the CCTV network is stored on a single server, you could install a spyware program of mine and-”

“Not gonna happen,” Nick said sternly. He was risking his job just being here talking to these two. Worse, helping someone he just met hack into the ZPD network would've violated Judy's trust directly.

“Well least we'll wanna do is get into his house so we can put a keylogger on his comp, tap his mobile. Who knows? Maybe it's choc-a-bloc with cub porn.”

The gears in Nick's head were turning smoothly now. They needed to take Shepsfield down, and they needed to do it right. Yet if Charlie found Marcus she clearly did have other contacts who could help her. Ones who were still in the game. It wasn't like her to be concerned about inviting Nick along just so he could settle scores he hadn't even known about. She'd come to him for something only he could provide, something only he could do that could fuck over Shepsfield in a way that saved Tommy.

The realization came in a flash, and he looked down at Charlie. The look she gave him was subtle, something only another fox could truly read. She knew that he knew.

Crap.

 

~~~~~

 

Highwatch was a high-security prison sixty miles out of the city. The flat, treeless plains surrounding it gave no cover to escapees. It was broad and square and tall, a massive brick of an edifice that loomed over the surrounding land with no thought for aesthetics or form. It was the polar opposite of the twisting spires and glittering skyscrapers of the city that Judy had come to know and love so much.

The former Mayor Dawn Bellwether had been massively unhelpful when she was first interrogated by the ZIA on the whereabouts of her compatriots Doug, Woolter, and Jesse. Once the Blue epidemic began to bloom she was questioned again, with no real success. But Bogo had spoken to Director Seraphine of the ZIA, and thought that Judy might give it a try. She and Bellwether did, after all, have a bit more of a rapport than anyone else.

Kaplan waited outside while Judy was put through the paces. The corrections officer who escorted her through the series of security gates ran down the list of rules as she checked in her personal belongings. She was to give nothing to the prisoner unless it was vetted first by a corrections officer. Same went for anything the prisoner might pass to her. An armed officer will remain outdoors at all times. Everything they said would be recorded unless special dispensation was granted by the warden... the list went on the whole way.

Finally, sitting in a chair much too large for her in the ruthlessly beige interrogation chamber, Judy waited as Bellwether was brought in.

“Judyyyy!” she squealed, smiling brightly as she trotted over to her own chair. It was similarly too large for her.

“Dawn,” Judy replied flatly.

“It's _so_ good to see you!” Bellwether tittered, her voice turning into a pitched squeak the way it did when she was excited. “You can probably imagine I don't get many visitors.”

“Well, I have to admit I didn't expect you to be so happy to see me... especially considering you tried to have me killed.” In all fairness what happened wasn't quite so grim. It'd been rather thrilling in fact, trapping Bellwether in that hustle. Judy could kind of see why Nick had once made a career out of it.

“Oh Judy what an awful thing to say! I always _did_ like you. We really did have a lot of common ground, didn't we?” Bellwether was still smiling. Judy couldn't believe it. She _genuinely_ seemed cheerful.

“So...” Judy began. She'd read the interrogation reports and none of them showed Bellwether being so amicable. Still, it didn't hurt to play along. “I... hope prison is treating you well.”

Judy had to suppress a wince at that. Dumb, dumb thing to say. She really hadn't expected the conversation to take this direction, and wasn't prepared to exchange pleasantries.

Again Bellwether giggled. “Oh well... it's not so bad as that. A few soap beatings in the showers, having my purchases from the commissary stolen, the constant threats to have me sheared... I have to say, I've voted for tough-on-crime measures for my whole life, and when that led to a higher pred-to-prey ratio in prison well... that just bit me in the wool, didn't it?”

“That's... I'm... sorry to hear that?” Judy wanted to sound sympathetic, but simply had no idea what to say. Bellwether's reaction was simply surreal. Was she drugged?

“Aside from that I'm quite fine. I've been having very energizing talks with my lawyer. Now... where is Nick?” Bellwether's wrists were cuffed, and the chains rattled when she tapped her hooves eagerly on her knees. “I've been hoping to see him too.”

Judy blinked. “Nick? But... you know, I never got the impression that you liked him.”

“Well we only did just meet twice in person, didn't we? I was hoping to get to know him better, especially now that I hear he's your partner.”

Judy blinked. “I didn't realize you knew about that.”

“Word travels Judy, even to this place,” the former Mayor rested her hooves in her lap. “Now, I suppose you have some questions for me.”

“Well... we need to know anything you can tell us about Doug, Woolter, and Jesse. They've been evading capture for the past several months, and we suspect they might be involved in manufacturing Blue.”

“Of course,” Bellwether nodded, “Well, interesting thing, Blue. You know when I first heard about the Night Howler serum I learned it could come in two different forms? The stuff that was used that drove preds savage was what you might call formula A. Formula B is what you now know as Blue. Apparently the idea was up in the air as to what would stoke predophobia more effectively: an unknown epidemic of preds suddenly going savage, or a slowly building drug epidemic among a certain segment of Zootopia.”

Judy's eyes widened. “I... hadn't thought of it that way.”

Bellwether nodded. “Well, when you think of it like that the latter sounds like it'd be much more effective in the long run, especially if the doctors did figure it out and find a cure for formula A. Preds do tend to exist on opposite ends of the spectrum, after all. Either they're living in the slums and need drugs to distract them from their grubby little lives, or they're pop icons and mayors who think they're invincible. We all know what happened to Lionheart... and you should hear the rumors about what Gazelle's tigers do behind closed doors.”

“So... what? Is this another conspiracy for someone like you to seize power? To get predators hooked on Blue so they'll go savage on their own?” Judy didn't want to believe it. If it was simply some new street drug that was one thing, but a concerted effort to destroy the fabric of Zootopia...

“Oh I don't think it's that really,” Bellwether shrugged. “It's probably a simple matter of money. Just think about it: the street value of Blue is, what, five dollars a tab? Ten? And it's so much less concentrated than the Night Howler serum isn't it? I'm no chemist, but if one Night Howler plant could yield, say, twenty tabs maybe? Oh you're the farmgirl, you'd know how quickly one of those plants would mature from a single bulb. So even a tiny basement packed with the things would in a year yield as much as...”

“Four hundred and sixty six thousand bucks if they have a hydroponic setup...” Judy's eyes widened. “And that's only with a small growth operation. A decently sized warehouse could make tens of millions. More, even.”

“Well, I don't think there are enough predators in Zootopia that can consume quite _that_ much. And I doubt three sheep can start an international operation. But suffice it to say that it's a highly profitable venture.”

“Then where are they?” Judy demanded. The scale of it horrified her. The implications... “Dawn, you need to tell me where they are!”

“I really can't say. And I honestly do wish I could help you, Judy. For all I know they could've parked a trailer somewhere far outside the city, where no cops will be looking for them. It makes sense to stay potentially mobile, doesn't it?”

Judy took the hint though, but one niggling detail remained. Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned in suspiciously. “Why are you helping me with this? I haven't even offered you anything.”

Again, Bellwether let out a pitched giggle. “Oh Judy, who says I'm helping you? I'm simply trying to get on your good side. But I suppose since we're being friendly you can tell me... what _is_ your relationship with Nick Wilde right now?”

The pivot was so abrupt that Judy could only stare at Bellwether with her mouth open. She knew her ears had flopped back.

“Ah. I see. Poor Judy...” Bellwether said quietly, though the sympathy seemed earnest. “You really don't know him at all, do you?”

Judy gathered herself up and hopped down from the chair, then looked up at Bellwether defiantly. “I know him well enough.”

“No. No you don't, Judy. I hear a lot of things in here, get a lot of news that no one would dare leak to the outside,” Bellwether adjusted her glasses. All the cheerfulness had slipped from her face like a theater mask. “And I've learned that Nick Wilde is dangerous. More dangerous than you can ever know. Please believe me when I say I'm just trying to look out for you, Judy. If you stay with him, then one of these days he _will_ hurt you. And worse.”

Suddenly she smiled again, and the abrupt curve of her mouth seemed to cut Judy to the bone. “Please don't tell Nick I said that. And oh, do give him my best. I'd like to get on _his_ good side most of all.”

 

 

 

 


	9. Nighttime Picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to the Night Howler epidemic from Nick's POV, and Nick proposes a romantic date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I recently read the Zootopia doujin "Nick Wilde" and thought a couple of the scenes were great, so I decided to weave them into a flashback for Nick. I felt like I was getting close to crossing a line in the bar talk dialogue, but I felt it was necessary to make it crude to a good extent just to show why Nick got so pissed off.
> 
> Comic here: http://imgur.com/a/FSDVF

_“_ _More bad news in this city gripped by fear_ _,”_ _sad anchorcat Fabienne Growley. How could she be so damn calm? It was like the city was tearing itself apart, and the most she could manage was to look mildly sad with her pretty face. Frankly, in a perverse little corner of Nick's mind he kind of wanted to see her go savage live on TV and tear right into Moosebridge. Wouldn't that be a sight?_

 _“_ _A caribou is in critical condition, the victim of a mauling by a savage polar bear,”_ _Growley continued,_ _“This, the twenty-seventh such attack comes just one week after ZPD officer Judy Hopps connected the violence to traditionally predatory animals._ _”_

 _Nick's paw tightened on his beer. There she was again, that naive little hick. He'd come to this bar to get_ _**away** _ _from the parade of bad news, especially since his neighbor always had it on full blast. This beer was a luxury he couldn't really afford right now, not with his contacts and clients getting more nervous about dealing with him every day that passed._

_He flicked a paw at the bartender, who passed him another cold one._

_“Judy Hopps. Fuckin' bunny cop,” a lion growled from the next table as he looked away from the screen. “You know just today some antelope behind the counter claimed he was on a lunch break when I tried to order a sandwich? Locked himself in the back room!”_

_“Didn't take much for us to get an even worse rep than before,” said a weasel. His tail flicked angrily. “Just some dumb bunny to open her cute little mouth and now they think we're all criminals.”_

_You said it..._ _Nick thought to himself. The rabbit had come here from way out in the sticks, thinking she knew how to treat preds right. Gosh, she'd never pre-judge anyone would she? A bunny cop should've known how it felt to be profiled. Surely she wouldn't become part of the hideous machine grinding the spirit out of every chomper in the city._

_He should've known better, ever since she first stood up for him at Jumbo's ice cream parlor. She might've had the best intentions, but it didn't change the fact that she had a canister of fox repellent in her holster, and that she'd nearly pulled it on him the moment he bared his fangs just to give her a good little scare._

_“My dad was a fuckin' priest, man. Does that little fluff butt think_ _**he's** _ _violent?” a wolf growled. “I never went to seminary school but I still make an honest living. And bunnies like her_ _**still** _ _hop to the other side of the road if they notice they're sharing the same pavement as me.”_

_“Bigoted little cunt...” the weasel hissed._

_That was a little harsh maybe_ _, Nick thought. Hopps kinda deserved it though. She was a hypocrite, and that was worse than a thieving fox ever could be. Even worse than a con artist. At least a con artist wouldn't tell himself he was anything better than that._

_“Letting her into the force was a mistake,” said the wolf._

_“You ask me, bunnies shouldn't_ _**be** _ _cops,” the lion grunted. “There's a strength requirement or something, isn't there?”_

_“Yeah how'd a cute little farmgirl get past the training anyway?” asked the weasel. “It's not like a bunny could take down a big tiger or anything.”_

_“Well there's one surefire way for her to get a pass in training. Bunnies are naturals when it comes to the world's oldest profession. And I ain't talkin' about farming,” the wolf chuckled._

_Nick's ears perked up, and he sat up straighter._

_The lion nodded. “Wouldn't be the first time a female sold her body to get something she wanted.”_

_“Shiiiit. How would that even work? The police chief's a hippo, ain't he?” the weasel cackled. “He'd fuck that cute little cottontail in half.”_

_“Nah he's a bull or something,” said the lion. “It's not hard though. If you're of the extra-large persuasion they just wrap their fuzzy little bodies around it and swirl around like they're pole-dancing. Went to this bunny club once, and wheeew. Felt like I was being wrapped in a velvet glove.”_

_Okay sure she might've said some dumb shit but this was fucking uncalled for. Judy wasn't like that. Being a police officer had been her dream. She was trying her best to make the world a better place, wasn't she? Despite her mistakes she was so damn innocent. She'd never..._

_“You see how many kits a bunny can squeeze out? That Hopps gal has probably ridden dozens of mammals to get where she is today!”_

_“Think she's into it? Sluttin' it out to bigger animals I mean.”_

_“Can't say, but I don't know what's worse. A fucking cross-species pervert or some desperate little bunny willing to spread her legs for a promotion.”_

_“Cheerful little thumper like that? She loves it. You can tell from the look in her eye. I mean the district attorney's a fox ain't he? You know what they say about foxes and bunnies...”_

_“Great, that means she's a fuckin' predophile to boot.”_

_“Yeah it'd be a snug fit but he'd probably be able to squeeze in there. Foxes prefer butt stuff don't they?”_

_Nick could feel the bile rising in his throat. Slowly he craned his neck around to look at the assholes regurgitating this garbage. His muzzle felt hot. His ears tingled. Nick had never been so angry before. His claws dug into the label of his beer bottle, peeling back paper and glue that'd grown damp with condensation._

_“Heh no wonder Lionheart stationed her in Savannah Central. I hear he's into all sorts of weird shit.”_

_“Just think about it: Lionheart, the police chief, the district attorney tri-teaming a bunny whore.”_

_“Oooohoho I'm thinking about it.”_

_“Our tax dollars hard at work, folks.”_

_“Hell if she's that easy I bet a weasel like me could get her to flatback no problem. I don't mind if her cunt's all messed up from all those bigger mammals, but-”_

_The weasel never got to finish that sentence. Where simple mammalian decency failed to keep those words from being spoken in the first place, Nick's beer bottle had quite effectively shut him up._

 

_~~~~~_

 

_“Fuckin' great, Wilde,” Finnick hissed as he peeked out the back window of his van. “You've gotten me into some crazy shit before, but a fox hunt? You kiddin' me?”_

_They'd long escaped the standard five-block radius the cops had pulled up, but Nick could still hear the sirens wailing in the distance. The cop's response was faster than they'd ever seen. Must've been on high alert with the epidemic going on._

_Nick hadn't thought things through. But looking back, he'd been quite confident that those preds were gonna stomp the shit out of him for that. He just hadn't cared. Surprisingly though he was able to get a few good hits in before he had to flee._

_Not that he'd gotten away unscathed. His eye was swollen, his skull was ringing, and he was probing a loose tooth with his tongue. The metallic tang of blood filled his mouth... it tasted like he'd gotten piss-drunk and had ended up licking the rusty pipes in his craphole apartment._

_“Hey buddy, you got some water?” Nick grunted as he crawled closer to the fennec._

_“YOU FUCKING KEEP TO YOUR SIDE!” Finnick snarled, hefting the baseball bat over his head. “You hear me?!”_

_Nick looked up. For once, his partner in crime seemed genuinely terrified. The sight of fear in those eyes was something Nick wasn't used to. It was disturbing._

_“You think I've gone savage on you?” Nick whispered._

_“What the fuck am I supposed to think?!”_

_Nick groaned and leaned back against one of the old cushions that made up Finnick's bed in here. “Savage fox!” they'd screamed in the bar when he attacked that weasel. But he hadn't gone savage. He was just drunk and angry from the bullshit they were peddling at the next table. Or... was that it?_

_Frankly, Nick was still trying to figure it out. No one knew what caused it. No one knew how it started even. Was the rage that flashed through him a symptom? A warning sign that he was about to go nuts and try to maul those around him?_

_No... please no. He didn't want to go savage. He didn't want to go crazy like so many other preds have..._

_“I was just on edge tonight... we're all on edge...” Nick murmured. He sat back in a bit of a daze, wondering if he really was completely sane. “Don't worry. I'm not gonna snap on you.”_

_For a long while the two stared at each other, Finnick's tiny chest puffing in and out as he breathed. Eventually though, when the sirens receded in the distance, the tiny fox lowered the bat._

_“I've got bottled water somewhere around here,” he grumbled, “And some aspirin.”_

_Popping open a medkit Finnick helped apply antiseptic to Nick's wounds, while Nick grabbed a few pawfuls of ice from the cooler that they used to store the Pawpsicles. Most of it had melted, but a few sizable chunks still floated in the basin. Nick tossed these into a discarded plastic bag, and groaned as he pressed the makeshift ice pack to his bruised eye._

_Once Nick was decently patched up, Finnick sat down across from him with the baseball bat laid across his lap. Just in case._

_“Now you wanna tell me what the hell that was about?”_

_Nick looked up at his partner. “The weasel knocked my beer over. After all the crap I went through this past week I really needed to get piss-drunk. You know that with everything going on now I'm short on cash. So I decide to splurge a little at the bar, and all of a sudden this dumb weasel hops on the counter and knocks my drink to the floor. Decided to give him a taste straight from the bottle then.”_

_Finnick's eyes narrowed. “Bullshit, Nick. That's the sort of shit I'd pull, but not you. You'd pick his pocket and pay for a new beer with his cash. Try again.”_

_“What, you think we're playing Two Lies and a Truth right now?”_

_“Don't we always?”_

_Nick leveled a hard glare against Finnick then laid back down onto the cushions. They usually saved the game for when things got quiet. It helped keep them sharp at thinking on their feet. In all the years Nick had known the desert fox he'd rarely had a straightforward conversation with the guy. The few they did have were when they were too drunk or high to care about lying. Yet he knew Finnick as well as anyone could. Sometimes, the lies a mammal told said more about their nature than what they were willing to admit._

_“Fine. They made fun of my Pawaiian shirt,” Nick grumbled. “You know I love this shirt.”_

_“Are you fucking kidding me?”_

_“Oh I'm sorry, did I forget to mention I was_ _**drunk as hell** _ _?” Nick snapped. “Drunk enough for little things like that to get under my fur and get me to go up against three preds?”_

 _Finnick shook his head in disbelief. “That's pathetic, even for you, Wilde. Now cough it up. What_ _**really** _ _happened?”_

_Nick pulled the ice pack from his face. The patch of fur around his eye was damp and cold, the tissue beneath it stiff and starting to swell. With a deep sigh he stared up at the featureless roof of the van. He could almost see her violet eyes, feel the press of her fluffy gray fur, catch the scent of bunny in the air: sweet and grassy like a meadow._

_“They...:” Nick swallowed. “They were talking shit about Judy.”_

_Finnick blinked. “What? Hopps? The bunny cop?”_

_“Yeah,” Nick muttered. “Calling her a whore. Saying she rode the nuts of everyone up to the Mayor to get her job at the ZPD. Don't get me wrong, I'm still pissed at the dumb bunny, but... deep down she's a good mammal. I couldn't let them get away, spreading talk that she sold her body.”_

_“So you had to get in there and defend her honor.”_

_“Hey don't make it sound like I'm gonna make a habit out of it. I was drunk, remember.”_

_For a while Finnick stared at Nick, as if trying to process what he'd just said. Then all of a sudden the little fox broke out in great peals of laughter. The van seemed to shake as he cackled, and the windows seemed to rattle as Finnick slapped his thigh and stomped one little foot into the floor._

_He wiped a tear from his eye then. “You seriously got into a fight over a fucking_ _**shirt** _ _?”_

_Nick pressed the ice pack against his face again. “Yep. I started a fight over a goddamn shirt. You know I like my style.”_

_“All right Nick, I'll admit you got me good. But first time for everything, eh?” Finnick shook his head, still chuckling as he got up and crawled over the driver's seat. The van's engine rumbled as he turned the ignition._

_“I'm dropping you off at your place. And seriously, the next time you decide to start a fight over your shitty clothes you leave me out of it. That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do.”_

_Nick closed his eyes and sighed. He really needed to just rest and clear his head._

_“Yeah that's me. Stupid ol' Nick.”_

 

_~~~~~_

Judy had only just flopped into bed when she heard the knock at her door.

With a groan she trotted over, ears drooping back, and turned the knob.

“Hey Carrots,” Nick grinned. He held a bundle under one arm and a large pack over his other shoulder. “I know you were too busy today to get a proper dinner, so I packed us a picnic basket. Here's the plan: I got a Zuber waiting for us downstairs, and we head a couple miles out of the city. Ten minute walk, and we're on top of this hill where you can see the neon glow of all of Zootopia. It's like an aurora on the earth itself... just beautiful. And private. In case we wanna...”

Nick blinked when he saw the expression on Judy's face. “And... you're exhausted.”

“Yeah,” Judy mumbled. “Sorry Nick I'm just not feeling it tonight. I had a really long day at the precinct.”

“No, no. I understand,” Nick smiled. “Heh it's fine. We could just stay in and eat it here. It'll all be nice and warm since I got an insulated lunch jar.”

It took just a moment more for Judy's brain to kick in. Her ears perked up, her eyes widened, and she clapped her paws over her mouth. “Oh gosh Nick I'm so sorry!” She reached up, cupping his face and running her paws back along his ears. They'd flopped back against his skull. “Here you are being so sweet, going through all this trouble and planning, and here I am being so gloomy about it.”

Nick smiled and planted a kiss on her forehead. “It's all right, Carrots.”

“I'll get changed.”

“Uh are you sure?” said Nick. “Look if you wanna do something more low-key we could just stay in and have a quiet night together.”

“With _my_ neighbors?”

“ _Hey we've been keeping it perfectly polite in here!_ ” yelled Bucky. Judy had finally started to tell them apart. The framed pictures of her family rattled against the wall.

“ _Real neighborly! We don't judge!_ ”

“ _So long as you treat her right, Fox!_ ”

“ _Hey don't just call him Fox!  That's offensive!_ ”

“ _Oh shut up!_ ”

“ _YOU shut up!_ ”

Five minutes later, they were sitting in the back of Finnick's van and headed out past the city borders. The lights of Sahara Square danced over the both of them as they laid back, the floor of the van rattling beneath them. A musky fox smell lingered in the air. Finnick really needed to air out this thing more often.

“Uh I thought you said you had a Zuber?” Judy said, looking up at Nick. She was wearing one of her flannel shirts. Nick did say he kinda liked her farmgirl look.

“Don't mind me,” Finnick grumbled in his coarse baritone, “I gotta find other ways to make ends meet now that you made my partner go clean.”

Judy sighed, resting her head against Nick's chest. He cupped her head with his paw, stroking her fur the way she liked.

“You okay there, Carrots? Not too sleepy?” Nick whispered. “Sorry, I forgot you bunnies were diurnal.”

“Crepuscular actually,” Judy yawned. “It's why I'm such a morning bunny. But I can adapt.”

“It's funny,” Nick murmured. “Being active at twilight used to be a way to avoid nocturnal foxes, wasn't it?”

“Who'd want to avoid you?” Judy purred, hugging Nick tight.

The few winks Judy had gotten on the drive over were enough, and she felt perky as ever trotting up the hill. Summer was just starting again, and the nippy chill of spring had given way to a comfortable, if slightly breezy night air.

Nick was right about the view. It really did look like an aurora, the way the neon lights of the city lit up the skyscrapers from below. From a distance it was a forest of glass and metal with the graceful spires of Savanna Central twisting into the air. The mist-shrouded Rainforest District seemed to breathe like a living thing. The casinos and nightclubs of Sahara Square were the brightest of all, and far in the distance Judy could see the faint puffs of snow rising from the atmospheric regulators in Tundratown. It was beautiful in a way no other city could be, with its wildly varied districts mashed together so harmoniously.

The dinner Nick had packed was still warm in the insulated lunch jar he'd brought. All vegetarian, too. Nick said he'd splurged too much on meat of late and he needed to get back on the veggie wagon for a while. There was hot chamomile tea, roasted root vegetable pies, egg custard tarts and fresh fruit for dessert.

Finally, full and happy and basking in the glow of Zootopia, Judy lay against Nick and gave a happy sigh.

“So you haven't told me about your day yet,” said Nick. They'd chatted a lot over dinner, mostly about recent movies and plans for the weekend, but that was all.

“And you haven't told me about yours,” said Judy. “I was reading a blog the other day, about interspecies relationships. Mostly about foxes.”

Nick's ears perked up. “Oh?”

“Bunnies... we share everything right?” Judy mused. Secrets were hard to keep in Bunnyburrow. They were packed so closely together, and Judy had so many siblings. They had to learn how to be open. “But it's different with foxes, isn't it? You guys don't open up easily.”

Nick held her a little more tightly, “Yeah we mostly just keep to ourselves. We'll talk if we really need to about deeper stuff but... it's rare, you know?”

“Yeah. And I'm trying to respect that,” said Judy. “Try to do things more the way you'd do 'em.”

“Wow. I really appreciate that,” Nick breathed a sigh of relief. “You really don't know what it means to hear you say that, Carrots. But I mean it's not like we _never_ share our feelings. It's just...”

Nick looked down at Judy then. She reached back to stroke the side of his neck. His lean, graceful neck. Judy loved how sleek he was. “Usually only with mammals we get close to. _Really_ close to. I mean... _we're_ close. I've never met anyone I wanted to be with more. And I want to be able to tell you things eventually. Open up. But right now...”

“It's fine,” Judy smiled up at him. “For now I'm fine with meeting in the middle until we see where this goes. I can respect your privacy, you know.”

“And I can listen if you really need to talk,” said Nick. He didn't look completely comfortable, but he looked willing to try. “So something obviously happened today if you didn't tell me the moment we sat down.”

“Well...” Judy started. She had to gather her thoughts, slow down and not go a mile a minute as bunnies were prone to doing. Nick had such a smooth, relaxed personal rhythm in comparison. “I talked to Bellwether today.”

Nick's eyes widened. Judy could see the gold-and-violet city lights reflected in his eyes. It really was beautiful. “Okay, _this_ I really want to hear.”

“Well I went to get some more info on Doug and his cronies. He's probably the one flooding the streets with Blue, right? Well, she actually opened up, answered questions. But then she started just going on about how she knew about the both of us. Said all this crazy stuff about how you were dangerous, more dangerous than I could ever know.”

Nick leveled a blank stare down at her.

“She said...” Judy let her thought on the matter die down. _Has she gone insane?_ Judy wondered. _Did they throw her in solitary? That was supposed to drive anyone nuts if they were stuck in there too long._

Insane would've been on thing. After all she'd been through Judy thought she could handle a crazy lamb. But Bellwether had been frighteningly lucid, and strangely eager to talk. Why did Bellwether open up to her though? Judy had after all been one of the two mammals who caught her. Was she just lying? Was this part of some deeper plot running around in that messed-up sheep brain of hers?

“It's all stupid, really. I don't know what her game is, but she's just trying to mess with my head. And I'm not gonna let her.”

Nick nodded. “Good.”

For a few minutes more they sat together, sharing a cup of chamomile tea. It was just beginning to get tepid when Nick spoke again.

“So what'd she tell you about Doug?”

“She implied that he's got a trailer. Most likely he's built a Blue lab in there and parked it someplace the cops won't find.”

Judy's eyes widened then, and her voice dropped to a low murmur. “Someplace outside... the... city...”

Nick tensed when he saw the expression on her face.

She froze, looking up the hill behind him with wide-eyed horror, and let out a terrified shriek.

“AHH! AHHHHHHH!” Nick yelped as he scrambled, grabbing the lunch jar and hoisting it overhead in an attempt to defend them both.

Judy fell to the grass laughing.

Nick was still breathing heavily when he looked down at her, and scowled.

“Okay okay, you got me good, Carrots,” he grumbled. “You can stop laughing now.”

Judy giggled as she climbed back into his lap. She felt a little bad for that. The mood for serious-talk time had just been ruined. She hadn't even gotten to the part about Benjy being a jerk and defending Shepsfield. Or tried to get his feelings about Tommy Daywood being attacked. He probably needed to talk about it, but in his own time.

“I'm sorry,” said Judy with a snicker, “You're just so cute when you're vulnerable.”

“Uh huh,” Nick looked away, embarrassed by his reaction.

She planted a kiss on his muzzle. “That's for spooking you.”

“Aaand?”

She planted a kiss on his muzzle from the other side. “And that's for saying no to this amazing picnic at first.”

“Aaaaand?”

She tugged his tie loose, and kissed him along the bit of exposed chestfur. “And that's for not being able to be with you this whole day...”

Without prompting, Judy popped the button at the front of Nick's pants. He gasped when she slipped her paw beneath the beltline.

“Y... y'know, I think you're doing this backwards...” Nick panted. Judy loved that she could get him so worked up. “All this apologizing... you know you're supposed to save the guilt for _afterwards_ right?”

It wasn't long before the both of them were lying back on the picnic blanket again, panting happily as the stared up at the starlight. It'd just been paws and muzzles again this time, but it'd been more than enough. The only real awkward thing was that without any proper napkins they'd had to do their best to spill their mess entirely onto the grass.

What was it with guys always forgetting the napkins?

As the post-coital bliss receded Judy felt Nick pulling her into a tight hug. She'd been lying back, and now that they'd worked the excitement out of her system she was thinking of where this was going. Where this all could go when Nick looked her in the eye.

“You all right, Judy? You look worried.”

Hearing him speak his name, her full name, brought her out of her reverie. “Oh, I was just... thinking about something. Something I read on the that relationship blog with foxes. It's... making me thinking about how far we want to take this.”

Nick looked crestfallen, and his ears drooped back.

She was nervous, and he could read that plain on her face. Judy trusted Nick, she wanted to get closer, but after studying more of potential relationship clashes between bunnies and foxes, she couldn't help but feel anxious. The pulse drummed in her chest, and she almost let the uncomfortable subject die. Perhaps foxes were right to hide their feelings. To not talk about some things.

“What... what is it?” he asked.

Judy took a deep breath. There was no other way to say this.

“Is it true that foxes are really into butt stuff?”

 


	10. Reason and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benjy has a heart-to-heart with Judy, Nick and Dr. Conall give their second psych eval a try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: Credit for the "Doctrine of Katma" goes to nicolaswildes (author and artist of the Zistopia comic, go check it out!). I'll be adding my own embellishments if I ever go into it more however, so it may not match their original vision for it 100%.
> 
> Second: I really love writing Dr. Conall's sections. I find I kind of have to go into a bit of a zen state to think about how he would react and what he would say in this situation. He has a very calculating and perceptive air about him, and pairing him with Nick the consummate liar is quite fun.
> 
> Doctrine of Katma: http://nicolaswildes.tumblr.com/post/158048230800/the-prince-of-tigers-shere-khan-created-the
> 
> Zistopia Webcomic: http://nicolaswildes.tumblr.com/tagged/Zistopia-AU/chrono

Getting lunch at the precinct cafeteria was a bit of an ordeal. The facility was well-maintained, but even with its last remodeling five years ago no one had anticipated a mammal as small as Judy joining the force. As a result she had to jump and pull herself up on the edge of the counter for a peek at the trays they'd set out. The line cooks weren't used to spooning out portions small enough for Judy either, and it took a few tries before she learned that asking for a third of a scoop of any one dish would've been more than enough.

At least they'd gotten a set of small plates for her and Nick. The bear behind the bar gave a customary chuckle as he gave Judy a tiny portion of today's grilled vegetable medley and a smear of mashed potatoes. Officer Higgins was standing behind her, and was kind enough to not look amused when he helped pass Judy's tray down to her.

Luckily the Mammal Inclusion Initiative that Lionheart had instituted had required the precinct to get a table sized for her at least, which bypassed the trouble of getting her tray up onto a surface again. Judy's ears drooped a little as she sat down. She'd spotted one of the cooks bringing out a couple blueberry pies to the dessert bar. Nick would've loved that.

Just as she was about to tuck in, a familiar figure knelt down and set a cup beside her.

“What's this?” she asked, looking up at Benjy. The tiger's big blue eyes seemed much softer than usual. More like his brother.

“An apology,” Benjy said, hefting his own tray. “Carrot-ginger smoothie. Nick mentioned it was your favorite. Mind if I sit with you?”

“Uh, yeah. It is. And sure, but... there's not enough room.”

In fact, Benjy's tray would've taken up the entire table, and extended past it by another few inches.

“It's fine,” Benjy said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “We eat like this back in the old country anyway.”

He set the tray on the floor in front of him, and took his plate in one paw. A few other officers in the room glanced in their direction, but didn't pay any further attention to the odd pair.

“Look, I'm sorry for all that shit I said in the car the other day,” Benjy said, stirring his potatoes and not looking at Judy directly. “Frankly, thinking about it, you're probably right. After all this anti-pred stuff last year I really should've known better than to profile another chomper. Especially when it's just a fourteen-year-old fox kit.”

He took a deep breath, and to Judy's ears it sounded like a thick rumble in his throat. “Honestly, now that I look at it this way it's kinda sickening to think that this kid might die because of some paranoid ram's prejudices.”

Judy had been so preoccupied mulling over her interview with Bellwether and brooding over Nick's absence that she'd largely forgotten the argument on that ride to Highwatch. Yet Benjy's apology came as a huge relief, and Judy's mood immediately brightened. Work had recently felt as if she'd gotten snared in a thornbush, and now someone had just helped pull her out.

“Wow... thanks, Benjy,” she said brightly. The smell of ginger certainly helped invigorate her too. “I honestly didn't expect you to do a one-eighty like this. Not so quickly.”

“Well, you kinda have that effect on mammals, Judy,” said Benjy. A hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, but he gave his salmon a morose poke. “Though part of it was because of a conversation I had when I took my Gramma to Temple on Monday.”

“Oh. I didn't know you were religious.” Judy's ears twitched. Now that she thought about it though, she did recall seeing a little shrine to The Khan on a shelf in their apartment. But then she'd been too worn out to give it much consideration. She hadn't known any Katmatists in Bunnyburrow. Given what most prey mammals thought of the Doctrine of Katma however, Judy expected that Benjy would've made her parents nervous. Even more than from him being a tiger.

“I don't actively practice or anything. It's more that my Gramma needs help getting to Temple sometimes,” Benjy took a bite of his salmon and shugged. “She brought us here because of the coup in Tigria, you know. All those assassinations and bombings... the extremists taking over villages close to ours. We were too young to know what was going on, and Gramma shielded us from a lot of that stuff.

“Anyway, she happened to mention that soon after she got her residency permit to settle in Catscreek, some tiger who recently resettled broke into a wildebeest's shop and slashed his throat. Didn't matter that he was off his meds, or that the rest of the Tigrian refugees were perfectly peaceful. For a while mammals were protesting when word got out that any building was being rented for Temple services. And any big cat that was seen wandering around on his own might've gotten assaulted. Tigers, lions, leopards... turns out that was why Gramma always kept us close to her. When we were really little she wouldn't even let us go out for a few years. Always wondered about that.”

“That's awful...” said Judy. She wanted to reach out to hold Benjy's paw, but he was just so big it would've been awkward.

Benjy sighed. “Yeah, I mean, even without _that_ little chestnut making me rethink the whole Daywood thing, I really should've known better. Not like I'm trying to excuse myself or anything but... well, this job tends to encourage certain biases, y'know? You make enough arrests, you think you start to see certain patterns with certain mammals... After a few years on the force it kinda hardens you in a lotta ways.”

“Working with Nick though...” Judy mused, “Being with him... well... you learn a lot.”

She blushed then, and began to stammer, and looked around to see if anyone overheard. The closest mammal was Fangmeyer a couple tables over. “I- I mean! Not that... him and me-”

“Relax...” Benjy chuckled. “A lot of us have suspected for a while now.”

Judy's cheeks felt as if they were on fire.

“But you're right, Hopps. Foxes _do_ get a raw deal. I mean, sure a small proportion are career criminals, but they end up making all the legit foxes look bad. And employers end up getting nervous about hiring _those_ foxes, so they end up resorting to crime to make ends meet...” Benjy finally glanced down at Judy to look her in the eye. “It's hard to think about all this crap though. The way I see it, it's not our job to worry about their economic situation. We're cops, not social workers.”

“The way I see it...” Judy did stand up this time, and leaned in to rest her paws on Benjy's knee. “The best cops don't think they can only be one or the other. Protecting mammals isn't just about taking down the bad guys. We have to serve our community in every way we can.”

For a moment Benjy continued to poke at his potatoes, and when he looked up at her with his big baby blues he finally gave her one of those rare, gentle smiles of his. “Tell you what, why don't you come over to our apartment again? It's been a while since I've been able to cook for guests. Bet you've never had Tikka Meowsala curry.”

“Sure!” Judy beamed. It was another one of those things she'd heard of but didn't know what it was. After all the tension between her and Benjy it was such a relief to put it all behind them.

Benjy's mouth curved into a big smile. With a little more heat in his eyes and a dusting of glitter on his nose, he would've been genuinely indistinguishable from Danny. “Y'know, Nick's really lucky to have you.”

“Well, I think I'm lucky to have Nick.”

 _Nick Wilde is dangerous. More dangerous than you can ever know_ , Bellwether's words suddenly came back to haunt her, unbidden and unwelcome. _If you stay with him, then one of these days he_ _ **will**_ _hurt you. And worse._

Judy wanted to ignore what Bellwether had said. They were the words of a crazy mammal... one who'd tried to seize power by inciting interspecies hysteria. One who seemed strangely... off... in their interview. One who, after trying to murder her, started giggling like a psychopath and greeting her like an old friend.

Yet Judy couldn't help but mull over the fact that Nick had always had a rough relationship with the truth. That he'd never been truly comfortable opening up to her. What was hiding there, behind those green eyes and that red fur?

“You okay Judy?” Benjy asked.

She blinked. “Oh! It's just... I was wondering if you actually expected me to finish this whole thing.”

Benjy looked up at the tiger-sized cup of carrot-ginger smothie he'd gotten her, and finally seemed to notice that it was tall enough to reach her chin if she stood next to it. Two or three bunnies would've been able to curl up inside the thing easily.

“Oops.”

 

~~~~~

 

Nick left his tea untouched as Dr. Conall stared at him from across the table. Today he'd brought out some blackberry Tigrian delights. Somehow the wolf had known that he'd love those, and the fact that Conall could get inside his head after just one meeting left him unsettled.

“Is something wrong?” Conall asked. His accent sounded so crisp. So refined. Did he really think they were gonna make some sort of professional connection?

“Yeah. Yeah something's wrong,” Nick growled. “I looked into your stupid book.” _Howl, Hop, and Herd: How Instinct Shapes Behavior._ It was a catchy title, and only $7.99 for the Zindle edition.

“Oh?”

“Is that all you can say? 'Oh?'” Now that he had all this time to himself Nick thought he'd get back to reading. Not many mammals expected that of him, that he enjoyed a good book now and again. Ever since he joined the force though he hadn't had much of a chance to read.

So when he ran across Conall's book he'd thought to himself “ Hey I know that guy. ”

At first he'd been utterly disinterested in picking it up. Reading a book by someone you knew felt kinda like an intrusion into something intimate, and Nick had been trying to relearn this whole 'tact' thing that he'd had a rocky relationship with for ages. That, and psychology was just not really his bag. It was only when he'd scrolled down and saw the storm of controversy in the comments section that it'd piqued his interest.

“In there you make the case that we're all still subject to our instincts. That predators do have aggressive urges deep down inside. That we're biologically wired to do certain things,” Nick tried to keep his voice calm, but it all came out in an incisive growl. “What were you thinking with that?”

“Please, continue,” Conall's impenetrable calm was frustrating. It was like trying to beat a foam rubber mattress. Nick left no indentation, no mark that he'd affected Conall in any way. The good doctor just sat there, unaffected. Those sharp yellow eyes just kept staring into his own.

“Oh stow the concerned therapist crap!” Nick growled. “Why did you start studying the whole Night Howler thing anyway? Did you just want something to confirm old stereotypes of predators? Don't you care what this sort of stuff does to mammals like us?”

For a few moments Conall was silent, as if he was waiting for more. But then Nick realized the wolf was just waiting for his anger to burn out. I'm calm ... Nick told himself. Nothing gets to you, Nick...

“I'm afraid that has been a rather unfaithful, if popular, interpretation of my work,” Conall said calmly. “Now, I recall hearing a rumor that when you and Officer Hopps were working on uncovering the Bellweather conspiracy last year you needed to get past a pack of timber wolves. How did you do it again?”

Nick could see where this was going, and the answer came out of him grudgingly. “She... started a howl. I might've mentioned something to her earlier about wolves and... the howling.”

“A very clever move actually,” Conall smiled. “Frankly, if I was there I might've been overcome with the urge to howl along as well.”

Nick sighed. “What are you getting at, doc?”

“Instincts have existed in us for millions of years, Nick. They aren't so easily bred out of us in only a few millennia of civilized life. Instincts still exist and shape how we act and think as rational beings. Yet it is one thing to say that primal urges exist, and another entirely to say that they are the sum total of who we are.”

“But saying that each animal has instincts that drive them to do certain things... that's still just like saying wolves are built to be street thugs. Or that foxes are built to be hustlers. Or...”

“Those are social constructs, not biological ones,” said Conall. “Wolves are indeed built to chase moving targets, and both congregate and compete with other members of their species more than other animals would. Yet this can translate to... say, cohesive wolf sports teams just as easily as it might translate to a criminal wolf gang. Instincts, even aggressive ones, aren't inherently bad so long as we are aware of them and keep them in check. My central thesis has ever been that, and nothing more.”

“I guess...” Nick muttered grudgingly. He hated how Conall actually made sense on this. He'd prepared a fine old rant to throw in Conall's face too. How come arguments could never went as victoriously as you always fantasized they would? “Maybe I did jump the gun a little.”

“It's also important to remember that it's not only predators that must keep watch over their instincts. Prey instincts can be just as destructive, as I noted in the book.”

“I haven't gotten that far into it yet,” Nick admitted. He'd only been able to read half a chapter at a time while he hung out in Marcus' basement watching him code or put together gadgets and things.

“Chapter five, I believe. I've edited that manuscript fifteen times before I sent it off to my publisher. I could probably repeat it by rote even now,” Conall took a deep breath. “ If I must name one of the best perks of being a predator, I would say that it is our much greater sense of individual identity. Herd animals in contrast tend to think and act as one unit. They have a much greater tendency to bow to social pressures or become subject to groupthink. This was a crucial faculty tens of thousands of years ago when the chief elder of a sheep's flock needed to maintain social order against a hostile world of stronger mammals. Yet in a modern democracy, in a society with a vast array of diverse needs and experiences that need to be integrated? It can prove disastrous. ”

Nick hadn't thought of it that way.

“Of course, this isn't to say that wolves are meant to be sports stars or lions are meant to be leaders, or rabbits farmers. I've outright rejected such essentialism in my book as well. The important thing is to know how instinct shapes different mammalian behavioral features and how they can best serve us in our goals. We must become the masters of our instincts, Nick. Not the other way around.

“I do hope this has allayed your concerns,” Conall's mouth curved into a faint smile. “I'd prefer these sessions to focus on my patients, but since this seemed important to you I do believe that discussing it for the moment has been fruitful.”

“Yeah sorry, doc. I guess it's just been a little off-putting to be put on extended leave like this,” Nick scrubbed a paw through the fur of his scalp. “I really just want to get back on duty.”

That is, he really just wanted to be at Judy's side again.

“If you prefer we can reschedule this evaluation for another time, when you're feeling a bit more comfortable.”

“No,” said Nick. “I'm doing fine, really. I just want to talk this out and get back to work.”

“Well, keep in mind that at any point, that is always an option.” Conall leaned back slightly in his seat then. “Now today I was hoping we could perhaps discuss the latest big incident allegedly involving Blue. The Thomas Daywood incident. How do you feel about it?”

At first Nick wanted to correct Conall: point out that there was no evidence that Daywood had been high on Blue, when he stopped himself. Was this a trap? Had Conall lowered his defenses and was now trying to prod him to see how he'd pounce on this sensitive issue?

I'm calm ... Nick told himself yet again. Nothing gets to you, Nick...

“I really can't say. I only heard about it recently. Fact is me and Judy had just... you know...” Nick feigned a trace of embarrassment: looking away and letting a sheepish smile play on his mouth. “Well we started to see each other.”

Conall didn't take the bait to discuss their new pred-prey relationship instead. He just kept on with it.

“Really? No thoughts about the Daywood attack at all?”

“I'd have to know more about it before I can really comment on it, don't I?” said Nick, giving a sly grin. All true while revealing nothing. The perfect cover. “You kinda miss the news when you're twined in the sheets for two days.”

For a good long moment Conall just sat there gazing at him. He tilted his head the way wolves did when they were mulling something over. When he finally moved he sat up straighter, fingers steepled.

“Mr. Wilde, I should note two things that are rather central for us to make any progress together. First, I'd like to emphasize that as a therapist, anything you may wish to tell me is confidential, unless I come to believe that you are a danger to yourself or others. You can trust me with your real concerns, Nick.”

When he looked up at Nick then his golden eyes seemed to pierce Nick to his core. “Second, I have a rather unique talent when it comes to sniffing out the truth from my patients. I must commend you on your ability to lie... for someone who was once a former street hustler you have the talent honed to an art. But dissimulation is thoroughly unproductive when it comes to these evaluations.”

Nick's jaw dropped.

He'd been able to figure him out? This whole time Conall had been able to tease out every single lie? It was embarrassing to be caught in one lie, but if that ever happened Nick could always spin it in his favor if he needed to. “I'm really sorry, but I had to protect something more important,” was always a good one.

Now all of a sudden he felt naked. His greatest source of protection turned out to be a paper shield against Dr. Conall. He wiped his paws on his pants. They felt sweaty.

“I...” Nick began. This'd never happened before, and it took a conscious effort to keep from stuttering. “I'm sorry... I started up this whole honesty thing with Judy, and it's a step in the right direction. But twenty years of being a con artist... well, you know what they say about old habits.”

Conall nodded. “You're under no obligation to answer these questions for me Nick. But until I can accurately gauge your mental state I can't recommend a return to active duty. Now... if you're still willing, let's discuss your feelings on the Thomas Daywood attack.”

Despite Conall's assurances it still felt damn close to being an interrogation. “It's... it really hit close to home when I heard about it. The truth is I used to know a lot of people on Pack Street like Daywood. They're a bit rough around the edges compared to what you're used to,” Nick noted the tea set and Conall's navy blue tailored suit. “But they're good mammals.”

Nick sighed. Saying all this out loud felt like he was getting his teeth pulled. “A lot of foxes try their best to do everything right. They try to stay in the system. They're told if they work hard, stay honest, and just believe in themselves, they can do anything.”

Nick's paws balled up into fists then. He'd thought he'd come to terms with what'd happened. He thought he'd gotten over it the moment Judy pinned the badge to his chest. “But then something happens. Something horrible. And all of a sudden they realize the nice, shiny future they planned out for themselves when they were kids... it was a nice dream, but at some point you gotta wake up.”

“I guess...” Nick sighed, slumping into the chair. “I guess when Daywood was attacked, it made me wonder if I'm still dreaming.”

Conall was listening attentively. “Go on.”

“That's it,” Nick shrugged.

For a long time Conall seemed to consider him. “It is my experience that the mind is a many-layered thing, Nick. A lot of our deepest concerns aren't so easily uncovered, and singular catalytic events, while impactful, do not fully explain certain persistent problems. What trauma you have endured that parallels Tommy's experience is certainly troubling, and if you like I want to help you resolve those issues if you choose to continue. Yet there's something deeper I picked up in our earlier session that concerned me beyond a resurgent case of PTSD.”

Nick's muzzle scrunched up as he scowled. Did Conall seriously just write off the worst thing that ever happened to him? Did he seriously just brush it aside like it hadn't changed the course of his entire life? “Wh- what? I just told you! The shit those fucking kids put me through was what fucked me up these last twenty years!”

“Yet despite that you've been a perfectly functional member of society for these last twenty years,” Conall tilted his head, “In your own way that is. But the Lone Digger occurred only two weeks ago, and it represents one part of a larger pattern of trauma you've suffered. Internalized predophobia...”

Once more with that calm, collected voice of his... normally it was like auditory Valium, but Nick's temper was rising. He was sick of it. Conall's surgically precise sense of empathy, his tea and treats and constant psychobabble. All of it was so _restrained_. So formulaic and artificial.

It was such bullshit.

Internalized predophobia. The words sounded familiar.

And that's when he remembered that Antlerson Crouper interview, the one that made rounds on Muzzlebook in the immediate aftermath of the Lone Digger. That was what he studied... how predators were impacted by the Night Howler epidemic. And now here was Conall, the new public expert on Blue.

That was it, wasn't it? All of this therapy talk was a smokescreen. It was a cover for Conall to study preds who were close to the matter. Preds who took Blue. Preds who were attacked by those who were high on Blue. Preds who were attacked because they were _suspected_ of being high on Blue. It wasn't about helping Nick and what was going on through his messed-up head. It was about Isaac fucking Mohegan fucking Conall gathering intel for a new book.

He'd been hustled.

“This is bullshit,” Nick snarled. “This isn't about me is it? This isn't about trying to get to the root of my problems or whether daddy touched me or whatever a sick fuck like you wants to know about my mother! You want the truth, huh? You want me to be honest with you?”

Finally, surprise dawned on Conall's face, and his golden eyes widened in shock. It was a very satisfying look. “Well here's the truth, Conall: I think that this whole 'extended leave' thing is an excuse for you to get your paws on me. I think you're trying to box me in so you can study me, because that's what you're into these days isn't it? How fucked up preds can get because of all the shit that happens with Blue.”

Nick slammed both paws on the table in front of him. “I'm not your patient, am I? No... _I'm your fucking lab rat!_ ”

Nick wasn't a violent mammal. He'd never attacked anyone before in his life. Well, when he was sober at least. But he grabbed the untouched teacup with its pink floral pattern and the saucer it rested on, and flung it at the wall. Porcelain shattered, tea sprayed over the wallpaper and dripped onto the carpet, and Nick stood there, panting heavily.

“I'm out of here,” said Nick in a low, threatening snarl. “Now that we both know that these sessions are bullshit, you can do your damn job as an actual doctor and give me a pass. Or I'm gonna have to go to Bogo and I'll do everything I can to tank your reputation.”

Those words didn't have the impact Nick had hoped. In fact, him screaming at Dr. Conall's hadn't done much at all, except for planting that initial moment of shock on his face. Already the black wolf was all cool professionalism again, sitting in his chair like it was a goddamn throne.

“One more question for today, Nick,” said Conall smoothly. “A concern I had about your well-being. When you first walked in I smelled anticipation on you. A sharp and bitter heat.”

Conall tilted his head, and his sharp yellow eyes stared into Nick's, like the wolf was gazing into his soul. “What is it you're planning, Nick? What is it that you're doing that you need to hide from everyone around you?”

An icy chill ran up Nick's spine. When he first entered Conall's office he'd been thinking about his next meeting with Charlie and Marcus. About the intel he was supposed to gather. About the next steps they needed to take against Shepsfield.

And now Conall knew.

“You're a fucking quack,” Nick scowled. He held tight onto his fury, he tried to maintain his rage as he turned around and stalked out of the psychologist's office. He needed to stay as pissed off as possible until he got far, far away from the black wolf.

If he didn't, Conall would smell the sheer terror that was simmering in him now.

 


	11. Advice and Intrigue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy get some practical advice from other members of Zootopia's Justice Department, and Nick begins plotting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Making side characters is super fun but also a challenge. There's going to be an upper limit to how many I can manage, but I want to expand the cast enough to manage a more complex plot as time goes on.

Nick grunted in disgust when the paper target wheeled back towards him. Out of the ten rounds he'd fired only one landed close to the center. The others were scattered almost evenly across the entire thing. He was never comfortable with firearms, but he could at least be good at it. With his paw-eye coordination he should've been at the top of his class on the gun range.

After the debacle with Conall yesterday he'd had to recenter himself. Doc Conall was the type who believed in structure... in order. He was predictable. Supposing Conall could be trusted, and strange as it sounded Nick had to believe the wolf could be trusted on this at least, Conall was bound by his professional ethics to maintain doctor-patient confidentiality. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone about his suspicions of Nick's activities. That thought helped calm him. And shooting helped too, even if he did suck.

Last night he'd scrolled through Tommy's Muzzlebook page, tried to get a feel for the son whose life he'd missed out on. God but that sounded so weird. He had a son. Nick had been terrified of marriage and having kids and all that family stuff his entire life, and all of a sudden he was a dad. The thought made him want to down a bottle of cheap whiskey and hug the porcelain pillow to drown it all out. And it also made him want to clean up all the crap in his life so he could do the right thing.

Tommy was a cute kid... took more after his mother in the looks department, and he seemed to have all the innocence and idealism Nick once had when he was younger. On his profile there were sweet, candid shots of him laughing... those were the best. Nick himself always looked so cheesy when he laughed, and Tommy looked so genuinely sweet. There were photos of him chilling at a park table with his crew: a young grinning lioness, an antelope wearing a varsity jacket, a pair of arctic foxes that looked like they were related, and a giraffe who had to lean down to get into the picture. A much more diverse circle of friends than Nick had in his day.

Tommy had even been getting a little political too, and at his age. He'd reblogged Pred Pride memes, even shared a couple articles defending Lionheart after he'd been reinstated as Mayor. Capybara on a cracker kids were smart these days.

A lot of the pictures on his gallery showed him swimming or playing hockey. He seemed to be a real sporty kid. There was one pretty adorable photo of him riding his antelope buddy's shoulders at one of the water parks in Sahara Square. That made Nick immensely sad, and he'd reached for the bottle once he started to mull over it. Nick himself had been the furthest thing from a jock, and while he wouldn't have objected to his son taking an interest in sports there were so many games they could've played together. All the lost time he could've spent teaching the kid how to play billiards or poker. Now those were games that required real wits and perception and skill.

No... no it was better for him this way. Nick would've ruined the kit given the state of his life up until just last year. Hell, the thought of having responsibility for anything as important as a young tod would've broken him. Still... he couldn't help but think of the fourteen years he'd wasted on a string of failed relationships, running cheap cons, or spending all those drunken nights with trashy vixens he and Finnick would bring into their shared motel room.

Yet shifting back to the other side of the equation again... if Nick hadn't been an absent father, Tommy might not be in the hospital right now. Nick would've made damn sure to teach Tommy how to keep himself safe. Always smile, but never show any teeth. Keep your paws visible, and always at your sides. Don't speak unless spoken to, always give an exact answer. Ears down and bow your head, make yourself look smaller.

Never give them a reason to use force against you.

 _It wasn't fair_ _, Nick thought to himself._ _Why is it that_ _**we're** _ _the ones who always have to check ourselves? Foxes aren't the problem._ _**They're** _ _the fucking problem..._

 _“_ _Nicholas Wilde_ _.”_

Nick looked up. The voice was faint and muffled, but it was always easy to recognize your own name. Nick slid back the soundproof earmuffs and pulled out the earplugs, turning around to see a snow leopard in a burgundy pantsuit.

“Don't blame the target if you're a bad shot.” She had a voice like warm honey, and wore an amused grin. Her sky blue eyes fluttered, almost flirtatiously, almost blending in completely with her gray-white fur. She smelled faintly of raspberries.

Nick looked down at the paper target he clutched in his paws. His claws had torn it half to shreds.

“My eighth one today,” Nick grumbled. He looked up at the snow leopard. Something seemed oddly familiar about her. Nick was sure he'd seen her before. “I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Ms...?”

“Therona. Marion Therona,” she extended her paw. Nick took it in his own and shook it.

“Pleasure.”

“Actually,” Marion continued to hold out her paw, “I was wondering if I could see your piece. May I?”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, sure. Go ahead.” Nick handed her the gun.

She only needed to examine it momentarily before she spoke again. “It's no wonder you aren't performing well. This is an MMS-15, sized for wolves. Foxes may be classed as medium-sized mammals as well, but proper ergonomics will require a more fitting model. You didn't think the grip was a bit large?”

“Well, the whole academy experience was a big dive into the deep end as a whole,” Nick shrugged. “I honestly didn't know what felt right or wrong.”

Marion chuckled. “Major Friedkin is an excellent instructor, but she tends to overlook such things. Not that it's completely her fault of course... having a rabbit on the force was a big learning experience in itself. The ZPD had to plan out specific accommodations just for her. But I'm afraid we've let you slip through the cracks, Mr. Wilde.”

“I don't recall seeing you at the Academy.” Her voice wasn't familiar, but Nick was sure of it now. He'd _definitely_ seen her before.

“Actually, I'm not an instructor,” Marion's smile widened. She seemed to find the thought particularly amusing. “I'm the chief medical examiner here at the ZPD.”

And all of a sudden, it clicked. He knew why she looked so familiar.

“Sooo...” Nick drawled. His mouth quirked into a cheeky grin. “Go to Sahara Square often? There's this amazing club in the district where I think you might just fit in. The Mystic Springs Oasis...”

Marion's eyes widened then. “Well. Now you have _me_ at a disadvantage. I haven't had the pleasure of seeing you in the buff.”

“Well, I wouldn't call it buff, but it _is_ quite shapely.”

Marion chuckled. “Well, if you can keep my secret I can help you a bit more with your marksmanship.”

“I wouldn't dream of telling anyone,” Nick smiled. Once again, connections and a sharp mind won the day.

“Part of the problem is that you're of a primarily nocturnal species, so your eyes are more sensitive to light. I'm sure you have a good collection of sunglasses?”

“That I do.” Nick got a lot of crap for wearing them indoors as well. Sometimes it was just more comfortable.

“It also means that the muzzle flash from the gun is much more intense for you,” Marion explained. “I'm sure you've noticed that when you fire a conventional firearm you experience a reflexive urge to look away? It's called the noctocular reflex.”

Huh. Now that she mentioned it, Nick _did_ flinch the moment he pulled the trigger. At first he'd thought he was just shit at the gun range in general.

“I... that explains a lot. Helps to put a name to it.” Nick started to wonder whether there were other things he'd missed out on, working in a field where most of his fellow officers were either crepuscular or diurnal. “Might also explain why I'm such a better shot when it comes to tranq guns.”

“That's right,” said Marion. “No muzzle flash, so minimal noctocular reflex. I can recommend a pair of special lenses that'll help filter out the flash so you can train it away. You'll also want to put in a special requisition for an MMS-12. Frankly, with your natural night vision, I suspect that with the proper corrections you'll be the best shot on the whole force.”

Marion's eyes furrowed in sudden confusion then. “Wait, aren't you on the 9-5 shift? Aren't you partnered with Officer Hopps? What are you doing on the range right now?”

“I was put on a psych leave order. Doc Conall thinks I'm craaaaazyyyyy.” Nick waved his paws around for emphasis.

“Well, perfect time to be holding a firearm then,” Marion said dryly.

“The only thing I'm killing right now is time,” said Nick. “Plus after the Lone Digger fiasco, I thought it might be better to keep a sidearm on myself just in case.”

“Not an unwise precaution,” Marion admitted. “Well, I have another autopsy to perform. Some riled-up Bluehead mauled some poor badger. Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Wilde.”

“You too.”

Well. That advice would certainly come in handy. Nick just wished he wasn't left wondering which mammal was on the slab right now.

 

~~~~~

 

“Well, if it isn't Judy Hopps,” the fox said warmly as he stopped at her cubicle. “The hero cop who just recently got Dawn Bellwether to cooperate with the ZIA.”

Judy was surprised to see the District Attorney at her desk. Tarquin Vash had a pale, slightly cream-colored coat, like a peach-colored blanket that'd been left in the sun too long. Judy chalked it up to him possibly being part arctic fox. His fur was neatly brushed, his claws impeccably manicured, and he wore a perfectly-fitted black suit and vibrant red tie that all lawyers seemed to favor. Every inch of him was neat and professional.

When Tarquin leaned in closer, Judy could smell the faint aroma of honeysuckle about him.

“District Attorney!” Judy chirped, hopping from her chair to shake his paw. Tarquin seemed mildly surprised, likely from a bunny being so friendly to him. “It's great to finally meet you!”

“The honor is mine, really,” he smiled. He seemed so different from Nick, whose lazy grin was always playful and cocksure. Tarquin just seemed full of earnest confidence. “I do wish I'd greeted you earlier but, well... not all mammals are quite so receptive to having a fox approach them.”

“Not at all!” said Judy. “Some of the best mammals I know are foxes.”

For a moment she was tempted to name Gideon Gray and Nick, but stopped herself short. She really didn't want to go down the treacherous “I have plenty of fox friends” route.

“Well, I was just visiting the precinct so I thought I'd thank you personally for getting that intel from Bellwether. How _did_ you manage to do it, my dear? The ZIA has been trying to crack her for months.”

“I'm honestly not sure,” Judy admitted. “She seemed a little off when we talked. Not like, crazy or anything just... off.”

“Hmm...” Tarquin mused, and the smile slipped from his face. “Well, the psychological evaluations indicated she was of sound mind. And much smarter than you may think. I feel I must inform you of some troubling news however. Bellwether's lawyer is challenging the use of the recorded confession you acquired. There's a chance the judge may dismiss the evidence.”

Judy eyes widened. “What? How... how is that possible?”

“Well, when you resigned from the ZPD Chief Bogo never officially filed your paperwork as such. He had a feeling you would return, and wanted you to get right back to duty when you did,” Tarquin explained with a wince. “I'm afraid that technically means that you were still an officer of the ZPD at the time you made the recording. And because you didn't have a warrant...”

“It might be considered an unauthorized wiretap...” Judy finished, clutching her head. “Oh no... no! No! No!”

“Please... please don't worry, Officer Hopps,” Tarquin put a paw on her shoulder to try to calm her down. “Like I said, it's just a chance. And we should have sufficient evidence to prosecute her besides.”

“What about the Highwatch interview? When I spoke to her the other day?” Oh please let that be usable!

“Well, it certainly helps the ZPD. Chief Bogo has been ordering patrols on the outskirts of the city, correct? But from a legal perspective Dawn had been quite clever in how she phrased things,” Tarquin sighed. “I listened to the interview myself, and any halfway decent defense attorney will point out that nothing she said there indicates any culpability whatsoever.”

“Maybe... maybe that's why it seemed like she was acting so strange,” Judy murmured. She'd had to type up the transcript of the interview herself, and had tumbled each word in her head as of late. “She brushed off any accusations I made like I was joking. And the way she phrased things! Like it was all just rumors she'd heard while she was in prison!”

“Precisely,” Tarquin nodded.

“I wish Nick had been there,” Judy murmured. “He probably would've picked up on all of this right away. He's just so... sly? Is that the polite word to use?”

“I never saw a problem with it.” Tarquin's smile returned, wider than before if anything. “I always did feel that we needed more foxes serving the law. The profession requires a certain cunning that tends to come naturally to us.”

He straightened his suit jacket then. “Well, Ms. Hopps. Thank you again. Your work has been exemplary. If you need anything please don't hesitate to ask.”

Just as Tarquin turned to leave, Judy reached out with a paw. “Actually...”

Tarquin glanced back over his shoulder.

“Well... I was just wondering...” Judy hesitated. She was just a cop still in her first year, and he was the District Attorney. Was it even appropriate to ask him about this?

“It's just... the Thomas Daywood attack. Why didn't you have Jared Shepsfield charged for assault?”

Tarquin frowned. “I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, Ms. Hopps. Frankly, the Downtown branch of the ZPD made a mess of the whole affair. They essentially took Shepsfield at his word when he claimed he was defending himself, so they failed to collect sufficient forensic evidence to the contrary.”

“But we know that Shepsfield injured Tommy. He doesn't have a solid case to prove self-defense does he?” Judy knew all about protocols and procedures, local ordinances and laws, but the process of a court case was a bit beyond her. Most of what she knew was from what she'd absorbed from the occasional episode of Paw and Order.

“Self-defense arguments are held to a different standard,” Tarquin said, shaking his head, raising his paws as if balancing a set of scales. “And they require the defendant to only provide a preponderance of evidence for his case as opposed to a prosecutor's duty of making his guilt airtight beyond a reasonable doubt. And with Shepsfield suffering an injury in the encounter, the attack occurring just a few blocks from the Lone Digger, and the current problem of Blue trickling into the streets, well... public sentiment being what it is now, it's a losing case.”

“So basically, any mammal could assault another and claim self-defense, so long as the victim is put into a coma and can't contradict him? Or does this sort of defense only work for prey mammals?” Judy couldn't keep the anger from her voice.

“Officer Hopps, I'm quite well acquainted with the issue of predators, especially foxes, being at a disadvantage when it comes to the law,” Tarquin said sternly, smoothing his jacket. “And yes. Unfortunately, with the way the world works as of now, a prey mammal can beat an innocent predator to death and win a case claiming self-defense much more easily than if it were the other way around. As much as I despise this fact, juries tend to believe prey when they claim to have a reasonable fear of predators.”

Tarquin grunted with disgust at those last words. For a moment Judy could just stare at him in shock at how he'd laid it out so plainly.

“What do you need then?” Judy asked, “To bring Shepsfield to trial?”

“Evidence,” he said. “Indisputable evidence that the encounter didn't go down as Shepsfield claimed. That Thomas Daywood was innocent.”

“I thought mammals were supposed to be innocent until proven guilty. Even a fourteen year old predator.”

Tarquin Vash gave Judy a dejected smile then. “Unfortunately Ms. Hopps, in my line of work, that sort of naivete is hammered out of you pretty quickly.”

 

~~~~~

 

With the USB drive plugged in, Nick scrolled through the cameras as quickly as he could, taking screenshots from each one in a two-block radius from the site that Tommy had been assaulted. Despite the increased CCTV coverage this was still in the Downtown area of the city, and as such the camera coverage was much more sparse than it was for Savanna Central.

Nick pulled up the footage from the night in question. Surely other officers had gone through it, and since no charges had been pressed against Shepsfield Nick wasn't too confident he'd find much of use. Though on the other paw, cops were always hesitant to provide recordings too promptly.

How in the hell did Nick end up on this side of the situation?

Tommy was just barely in view of one camera when the encounter first went down, pulling and struggling as the ram gripped one wrist. Did Jared grab him first? It was possible. No, that was _definitely_ how it went down, in Nick's view. If that was the case Tommy was the one who was really trying to defend himself. Maybe he was afraid of Shepsfield. Maybe he was terrified that some strange ram following him on the street was some Bellwether crony. Maybe one who was trying to turn him savage like Doug had been doing to incite the Night Howler hysteria.

But with all the anti-fox pundits poisoning the public narrative, not many mammals would see it that way.

And there on the second camera was Tommy again, running along the street, Jared in hot pursuit. Huh. Shepsfield hadn't mentioned a chase. Looks like Tommy was trying to get away. And _Jared_ was the one escalating the situation.

But it was still not enough. Shepsfield's followers would just say that he was pursuing a fleeing criminal.

Wait... there it was. Tommy was turning around just as Shepsfield charged him. But it was just at the edge of the screen. You couldn't see the kit's hands clearly. And most of the impact of Shepsfield colliding with him was out of view.

Finally the next camera over Tommy landed onto the concrete, bouncing once, limbs flopping like a rag doll's. The sight of it was sickening. A living body shouldn't move like that. The poor kit was writhing, struggling to breathe. Nick could almost see the confusion and terror in his eyes as his tiny chest rose and fell. Tommy shuddered with each breath, as if he was filling his lungs with broken glass each time he inhaled. Through it all his mouth moved. The cameras didn't record sound, but Nick felt like he could almost read what he was saying...

_“What did I do wrong, you guys? Please! Tell me what'd I do wrong?”_

Nick shivered, covering his face with one paw. Nick had suffered from nightmares for a few months, after that night at the Junior Ranger's clubhouse. He'd wake up whimpering and curled up into a little ball in his blanket, heart racing, feeling like he was surrounded on all sides once again.

Yet the worst part wasn't the nightmare: it was the waking. Because in that muddled state of half-consciousness when the dream began to fade from his mind, Nick had thought it'd _only_ been a dream. That the other Junior Rangers _hadn't_ assaulted him at all. But then he'd wake up all the way, and his mind would begin to sort the terrible reality out from the nightmare, and then Nick would realize it _had_ been real.

And so on the nights he had that dream, Nick had to relive the attack all over again.

The last time he'd had a serious flashback though was during Judy's press conference. And as bad as that one had been, this was worse. He could feel the paws and hooves pinning him down, the straps of the muzzle cutting into his cheeks. There was the pain, the terror and confusion and pleading to know how he'd fucked up to deserve being attacked like this, what he could do to make things right again.

Maybe he would've handled it better if Dad had still been alive. Dad had always seemed to know what was going on. He'd always given Nick crucial advice on how he needed to present himself to the world as a fox. Realistic without being cynical. Gentle yet without pulling his punches.

Nick hadn't realized how much he missed the old man.

As usual the practical half of his brain, the one focused on results over dwelling on existential crises, began to wall off the flood of feelings as usual. This time however he mentally filed all these thoughts and impressions, stuffing them into a neat little box and tying it off with a bow. Maybe if he delivered this package to Conall the wolf would get off his tail and let him back onto the force.

“Don't worry, kiddo...” Nick said quietly to Tommy's image on the screen. The kit had stopped moving. “That sheep isn't gonna get away with this.”

Nick pulled the USB drive out of the socket and slid over to the door, putting his ear to it. This was the Records office down by the boiler room. Officers seldom came here, so Nick had a much lower chance of being seen accessing the CCTV network than if he'd worked from his own cubicle.

Hearing nothing Nick slipped out and into the empty hallway. The air here tasted stale. The brick walls had been painted beige, but it didn't help keep the basement level from feeling like a prison. Carefully Nick sniffed the air, listened for any movement. He was a con artist, not a burglar, but he was slippery enough to get in and out without being noticed. Charlie had given him some pointers too.

He took the stairwell then. The first floor of any building was too active to get out on. He'd have to go up two levels and slip into the second floor, take the elevator down, then walk out all casual-like as if he'd just been here for a visit.

Nick checked his watch. 11:23. Perfect. By now everyone would be antsy for lunch, too busy staring at clocks or cell phones to check the time. Or they'd be hastily wrapping up the last bit of paperwork they needed to get through to find a good stopping spot before they took a break. Just a hair too early for anyone to slip out for an early break too. All of that added up to an environment where people were lost in their own little work-worlds. Indeed, when he walked through the rows of cubicles on that floor no one gave him a second glance.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice behind him.

“Nick!”

Nick turned around to face Judy. She was chipper as usual, and hopped out of her chair to greet him.

“Hey, Carrots,” Nick smiled.

She looked him up and down. Instead of his usual Pawaiian shirt today he wore a black suit and his usual bright pastel tie. It was easier to blend in that way, even if he stood out as the only fox wandering around ZPD headquarters. Nick casually stuffed his paws in his pockets, feeling for the thumb drive just to reassure himself that he had it.

“Wow you look...” Judy blinked. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Why else?” Nick grinned. He'd already planned for just this encounter. And if it wasn't Judy who confronted him, he would've asked to see her. “I was hoping to take you out to a nice lunch, especially since... well, you know.  I need you around to keep me out of trouble," Nick grinned.  "I've actually been having a strange hankering for a Jumbo Pop recently.  Think you can get out a little early right now?”

“Oh! Sure! Let me just finish up some paperwork! You know it's funny, I just met the District Attorney and he was wearing the same thing as you. Different tie though.”

“Heh. Twinsies.”

“So how was your meeting with Dr. Conall?” Judy asked.

Nick winced. He'd hoped she wouldn't ask about that, especially with Judy beaming at him with so much hope in those violet eyes of hers. “Not... as well as I'd have liked honestly. Come on, I'll tell you all about it.”

 


	12. Dinner With The Kaplans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick and Judy have dinner with the Kaplan twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of Judy's reaction is from when we took a Texan friend of ours to try their first Indian curry. I was very surprised at her reaction: I was under the impression that Texans were used to spicy stuff.

“Twinsies!”

The fox who greeted them at the door squeaked in delight, spreading out his arms and giving Nick a big, tight hug that lifted him onto his toes. Judy gave a start at the sight: another fox, one who bore a stunning resemblance to Nick, wearing a yellow Pawaiian shirt and pink tie. Oh sure his fur was a shade lighter, his eyes were blue instead of green, and his muzzle was a bit shorter. Yet if Judy saw the two of them from a distance and squinted a little she wouldn't have been able to tell them apart at all.

“Oh my god Chester get your furry butt back in here,” said Benjy.

Judy had smelled Benjy's cooking the moment they got off the elevator. It was a pungent, spicy aroma with earthy notes that reminded her of the incense at the Mystic Spring Oasis, very exotic and Eastern.

Benjy was working all four burners on the stove, and his paws rapidly switched between stirring a pot, tossing vegetables in a pan, adding spices, and adjusting the heat when needed. It was still quite new to Judy, seeing one mammal do all the work in the kitchen. Back home her mom, her aunts, and some of her older brothers and sisters had to work as a crew with all eight stoves firing in order to feed the family in shifts. The assembly line they'd organized made things so much more efficient, if a bit dull to watch. What Benjy was doing now was a performance in itself.

“Judy! Nick!” Danny was leaning over the back of the couch to gauge their reaction. From the broad grin he was wearing he was quite pleased with what he saw. Danny stood up to greet them, bouncing over in a pair of jean shorts and a bright pink tank top with the words “ _TIGGA, PLEASE!_ ” printed on the front in bright purple glitter. He laid one massive paw on Chester's head. “I see you met our new boy toy.”

“This is all on him,” Benjy said defensively, pointing a spatula at his brother. “I didn't invite the guy.”

“Gee that's kinda rude,” Danny stuck his tongue out. “So? Whacha think? Had to shop around a bit but I think we got the look right.”

“Well he's one handsome fella,” Nick said, his mouth curving into a pointed grin. The speed at which he'd gotten over his shock was impressive.

“It really is like looking a mirror,” said Chester. The pitched lisp he seemed to have when he first greeted them had dropped to mimic Nick's voice.

“Nothing beats the original though.”

“Well aren't _you_ a narcissist.”

“A _sexy_ narcissist.”

“Oh my god you guys need to kiss like, _right now_ ,” Luke said from the couch. His tail flicked back and forth behind him as he smiled drunkenly at the pair. His eyes were slightly pink. Oh sweet cheese and crackers was he high on nip?

“And now you've ruined the moment,” Nick and Chester happened to say at the same time. They glanced at each other, and simultaneously broke into a remarkably similar grin.

“Okay before this gets out of control,” Benjy broke in, “Danny, maybe you could make some chai for our guests?”

“I've seen chai at Snarlbucks but I haven't had the chance to try it just yet,” said Judy, tugging Nick away from Chester. She was glad to break the weird magnetism that was occurring between the two foxes. Part of her was convinced that if the two ever made physical contact the feedback loop would've caused the universe to implode or something.

“Well, that's just about the only thing I _can_ make well,” said Danny as he opened one of the cupboards.

“Just so you guys know, I'm gonna have to pop out before the night's done,” said Nick, “Maybe ten-ish. I promised I'd meet a buddy for drinks.”

“That's fine. Think you'd stay for the movie, Judy?” said Benjy. “We're thinking Freddy Cougar.”

“Classic,” said Judy. It'd been on the list of older films she and Nick had planned to watch together on their Friday movie nights. But if Nick was going to go barhopping with Finnick Judy considered it fair game. Not that she was jealous or anything. Quite the opposite in fact. She and Nick had been spending upwards of twelve hours a day together, even before they decided to jump in the deep end and get serious. Dating openly was already a big step. A little time apart would keep them from getting too attached at the hip.

“So what's on the menu tonight, champ?” asked Nick.

“Tikka meowsala, curried lentils, and some fried okra for veg on saffron rice,” said Benjy. “I also prepped some bhel purri to snack on during the movie.”

“Think puffed rice, but with spices and stuff,” Danny explained as he spooned some spices into a coffee grinder and blitzed it.

“Oh my god I could use some bhel purri right now,” Luke moaned. “I like, seriously got the munchies.”

“Um... is he... high?” Judy asked.

“It's to help treat my ADD,” Luke purred, lounging on the couch.

“He's got a prescription and everything,” Danny added.

“Don't take this the wrong way,” said Nick with an amused grin, “but I thought _all_ cats had ADD.”

“Nick!” Judy punched him in the arm. That was just speciesist.

Benjy barked a laugh. It was a loud, snarly sort of laugh that shook the room. “Oh man, Nick... that's exactly what _I_ said!”

Judy had never felt intimidated by the other predators in the precinct, but with Benjy and Luke and Danny together in this private setting... it was a bit much. Everything about them was so _big_ , and it wasn't just their size, if that made any sense. With Benjy out of uniform and in the comfort of his own home, he was relaxed in a way that Judy had never seen before, and that was a little off-putting. It was like coworker-Benjy and casual-Benjy were two entirely different mammals.

The mammals she knew back home were so much more down-to-earth all the time, whether at work or at home. She supposed city folk really did have to wear different faces for different functions. She just had to get used to that.

“That smells amazing, Benjy. What's in it?” Judy asked. She had to perch on her toes to peek over the edge of the counter. Benjy looked down and gave her an amused smile, but refrained from using the C-word. She was all too aware how small and adorable she looked at the moment.

“I did a vegetarian version of the tikka, but for us preds I got some fish to add in too. For you I roasted some carrots in the spice paste. It's a pretty simple mix actually... ginger, turmeric, garlic, cumin, coriander, pepper, garam masala, and some paprika to give it a little zing. Oh and cardamom. Plenty of cardamom. That's just how I like it.”

“Did you just call that simple?” Judy laughed. “My parents were just a plain ol' carrots-and-potatoes couple back on the farm. I think the fanciest we ever got was adding cinnamon and ginger.”

“Different strokes, really,” Benjy shrugged. “Tigria's the land of spice after all. You know eighty percent of the spices used in the world comes from there?”

“That's pretty impressive actually. You know we get about fifty percent of the fruits and vegetables in Zootopia from Bunnyburrow..”

“All righty, we're just about done here...” said Benjy. He pulled open the oven and took out a thick-walled ceramic bowl. The oven was set to a low hundred-and-fifty degrees, just so Benjy could keep the plates and the serving bowls warm. He poured the vibrant orange curry into it, and spooned the lentils into another dish. The okra he placed in a third dish, while Danny set the table.

“Why don't you guys sit down and have some chai while I finish up here?”

A couple thick cookbooks helped prop Judy up in the seat, and even Nick and Chester needed one each to sit comfortably at the tiger-sized table. The dishes in front of them had so many new smells that Judy didn't quite know how to sort it all out. The chai in particular was stunningly complex. It tasted cinnamoney and citrusy and flowery all at once, mellowed out by the almond milk and brown sugar. She really needed to get the recipe from Danny... bucks to biscuits her parents would be amazed.

“Anyone want a beer?” said Luke, pulling several bottles from the fridge. “Nothin' like a nice cold lager with your curry.”

“Oh just a third of a scoop...” Judy said as Danny helped serve. “Oh just... a little bit less... yeah, that's perfect.” The tikka meowsala oozed through the bright yellow grains of rice and onto the wedge of flatbread Danny had put on her plate, along with a smaller pile of lentils and okra.

“I'll just have a tiny piece of fish to try if you don't mind,” said Nick.

Benjy blinked. “You sure? We got plenty.” And indeed the plate was piled high with white nuggets of fish battered and fried in that same orange spice mix.

“I'm actually a vegetarian for the most part,” said Nick. “Sorry, I should've mentioned, but it's no big deal. I've just indulged a little too much lately, so I'm trying to get back on the wagon.”

Danny turned to look at Nick. Even Chester seemed a bit surprised. “Really? Any particular reason?”

“It's just how I was raised,” Nick shrugged as he helped himself to the curry. The one piece of fish he'd accepted looked lonely on his plate even nestled beside the okra and lentils. “Dad grew up having to deal with a lot of rough stuff, and he thought it was important for a fox to put on as good of a public face as he could. Some prey mammals get pretty nervous when they see a pred tearing into something that used to be alive and... well, not kicking, but flopping around at least. So he wanted me to get used to veg, so I could look a little more civilized in their eyes.”

Nick scooped a spoonful of curry and rice into his mouth, and his eyes widened when he looked up. “Oh my god!” he said around a mouthful of tikka. “This is amazing!”

Judy sampled a bit herself, using the smallest teaspoon the Kaplans had. Again a riot of flavors bloomed on her tongue, too many and too intermeshed for her to tell one from the other. Yet as she chewed a heat began to build in her mouth: it began to sting at her tongue, then the inside of her cheeks. Her eyes began to water and she started to salivate.

Judy swallowed quickly, and the heat spread all the way down into her tummy.

“W-wow...” Judy panted. “That's... that's something.”

“Oh... sorry, Judy. I made it pretty mild, I thought. I was actually gonna ask if anyone wanted any hot sauce.”

Nick, Danny, and Chester raised their paws.

“Have it with more rice,” Nick said around another mouthful. “Or some bread.”

“The chai might help too,” added Danny.

From what Judy had head about Tigrian curry she'd expected something like this to happen, especially since the spiciest thing she'd ever had until now was black pepper. But she wouldn't be defeated by a plate of food. For now though she just stuck to the lentils and okra.

“Your dad sounds like a pretty smart guy. What's he do?” asked Benjy, who'd just returned from the fridge with a bottle of hot sauce.

“He died when I was eleven.”

The table fell silent.

“O-oh...” Benjy said quietly as Nick mixed the hot sauce into his curry.

Judy put a paw on Nick's arm. He just glanced down at her with his usual smile. “Aw it's all right, Carrots. Really. It was just a car accident. It was rough for about a year or so but I got over it eventually.”

Judy wanted nothing more than to hug him right now, but she knew he wouldn't have liked it, not at the table and in front of the others. She pulled her paw away. That was one of the rougher parts about dating Nick... she couldn't touch him the way she wanted, when she wanted.

“Really though it took some getting used to, being a vegetarian I mean,” Nick shrugged. “When you're a growing kit you just want fat and protein and sugar. Kinda depressing when you get a bowl of spinach instead. _This_ though... if I had this every day I wouldn't have complained as much.”

“Oh! I forgot to mention!” Judy piped up. “I met District Attorney Vash today!”

“No kiddin'?” said Benjy. “The guy's probably the most respectable fox in Zootopia. What'd you guys talk about?”

“He thanked me for my work. Gosh I really wish I'd brought up you when I talked to him, Nick. But...” Judy stared into her plate and took a small lick of curry. Still on the spicy end for her. “Well, he mentioned that Bellwether might get the recorded evidence vacated.”

Benjy blinked and looked down at her. “What?”

“Apparently Bogo never filed my resignation so I was technically still an officer at the time. So her lawyer might argue that it counted as an unauthorized recording.”

“Real shame. That was one of the finest hustles I came up with too,” Nick sighed as he took a swig of his beer.

“I'm sure he'll get her,” said Benjy, “Tarquin's only been in office for a year but he's always been fair, and smart as hell to boot.”

“I wish he'd charge Shepsfield though. He said there wasn't enough evidence,” Judy muttered, trying another spoonful of curry.

“Was there any CCTV footage?” Nick asked. “That's how we tracked down the missing mammals the first time.”

“I checked it when Vash left,” said Judy. “A lot of the whole encounter wasn't in view, but I think there should still be enough to show that Shepsfield was the one who started the whole thing.”

“Self-defense cases can be tricky though,” said Benjy. “Even with evidence on the prosecutor's side the jury can be pretty heavily influenced by public sentiment, especially when it's a pred-prey situation.”

“I hear It's getting harder every year to do jury screenings too,” Judy added, “Mammals can just browse the news on their phones every moment they have any spare time, so a lot of the potential jury pool gets tainted.”

“Which leaves us to pick the biggest dullards to decide on the case,” said Nick.

“Which leaves us to pick the biggest dullards to decide on the case,” Chester repeated, as closely to Nick's tone as he could manage. He broke out into a giggle. “You and I have _got_ to hang out sometime.”

“Okay not that I'm unflattered by the thought of you guys spitroasting my doppelganger here,” Nick said, gesturing to Chester, “But what's the deal with this guy anyway?”

“I do improv comedy at the community theater during the day. And by night...” Chester glanced up at Benjy, and his foxy smirk was suddenly replaced by a sober, slightly timid look. The tiger cop had paused with a spoonful of curry halfway to his mouth.

“By night I have perfectly legal and boring sex with strangers.” Chester tried to put on an innocent face, and swirled a little circle on the tablecloth with his finger.

Benjy rolled his eyes. “Well, I think another part of it is political. It's bad optics for a fox DA to push for a trial when the alleged victim is another fox. The case is too controversial right now. He's been working on a solid balancing act to keep a clean reputation since he got into office. Personally, I think he's just biding his time.”

As the talk migrated on to other things, Judy powered through the rest of her meal. She quickly found that the best thing to do was to keep eating, pausing just long enough to savor the food yet not so long that the heat had a chance to kick in. The chunks of sweet carrots that swam in the curry helped too. That, and an extra helping of rice and two glasses of water.

By the end she sat back, her cheeks hot and her eyes damp, feeling quite triumphant at the sight of her empty plate. She'd had to fight for every ounce of respect she got at the precinct, and she wasn't about to lose to a plate of food.

“Gotta say, that was an impressive showing for your first curry, Carrots,” Nick said as he rested his face in one paw. “Don't worry, the first time's always the roughest. After a couple more tries though it won't burn nearly as much.”

Judy looked at Nick skeptically. She wasn't sure whether that was supposed to be a double entendre or not. If anyone else picked up on it though they were doing a damn fine job keeping a straight face.

 

_~~~~~_

 

A series of satellite-image printouts from Zoogle had been laid across the large table in Marcus' basement, taped together at the edges to form one big map of Flock Street. Large blue squares had been drawn over it with a ruler, and a set of Crypts and Chimeras miniatures sat on the side. There were four of them, presumably to represent him, Marcus, Charlie, and Shepsfield. Nick had noticed the shelf full of Crypts and Chimeras rulebooks earlier. That certainly explained Marcus' enthusiasm for being so elaborate with the mapping.

“So from the photos Nick provided I was able to map out the CCTV blind spots,” he started to explain, “About a third of the sidewalks and streets aren't covered. Apparently the original plan was for the cameras to be motorized and rotate periodically to get around that, but some bloody administrator on the Urban Planning Commission decided to cut costs and use stationary ones instead.”

Ah, bureaucracy at work.

“Only problem is this,” Charlie tapped on one of the blue fields Marcus had drawn to indicate a zone that was being monitored. “The T-intersections are completely covered. So my choice is to either jump through a great many backyards to access his domicile, or zig-zag my way through the street for three blocks to avoid detection.”

“Not necessarily,” Nick said, tapping a small, almost unnoticeable blob. “That looks like a manhole cover, right in a blind spot just one house down from Shepsfield's. You just need to access the sewers a couple blocks away. Make your way here, and you've got your access point.”

“Well good on ya, mate!” said Marcus. “Lemme dig up the sewer system maps. Just gimme a tick!”

Marcus tottered over to his bedroom.

Charlie took another glance at the map, then began to examine a blueprint showing the layout of Shepsfield's house that they'd found on the property developer's website. Nick leaned down, glancing in the direction of Marcus' bedroom. If he was going to be as fastidious as he'd been with what was on the table, he'd probably need a little while to stitch together another map sufficiently resized that he can overlay on top of this one.

“Why are you doing this, Charlie?” Nick asked in a low voice. “You know why I'm in board, but you haven't told me why you're in on this job.”

Charlie looked up from the blueprint. Nick hadn't really expected an answer. Charlie often chose to explain things only as needed, and was simply evasive the rest of the time. It was a good skill to have, knowing how to dodge questions gracefully.

This time though she looked straight at Nick, tilting her head slightly as if mulling something over.

“It's my fault that the current dialogue around Tommy is so toxic,” she said quietly. “He's always been a good kit. A touch mischievous, but nothing unusual for his age. When you absconded Ruby and I struck up a casual friendship of sorts. Given his mother's work schedule he was a latchkey kit since he was eight, so Ruby often asked me to check in on him.”

That was something Nick was all too familiar with. It was quite normal when he was growing up for Mrs. Harmon, the old raccoon next door, to look in on him now and again. Especially after dad passed away. Terrible cook though.

“I have no maternal instincts, Wilde. The only way I knew how to keep him entertained was with my talent for legerdemain. Sleight-of-paw, for the most part. Minor tricks. One day I decided to inculate in him the art of lockpicking. He took a liking to it immediately. Children are always fast learners, aren't they?”

“The little buggers are smart, that's for sure.” Nick recalled how Finnick had taken him under his wing. It wasn't long before Nick began to outpace his partner and became the chief planner for their cons.

“That's why Tommy broke into all those lockers at school. It was merely an attempt to impress his classmates. But now that he's in the news they raise that incident to paint him as a criminal. To argue that Shepsfield was right in assaulting him.”

When Charlie looked up at Nick, he could see faint slivers of her ice blue eyes.  "And I as the one who taught Tommy how to do that."

Nick simply kept quiet. Being a con artist wasn't just about knowing what to say... you also had to know what not to say. “It's not your fault” never helped. Anyone who was truly determined to self-flaggate would never believe it.

“Would you like to see him, Wilde?”

Nick had known that at some point he should meet Tommy in person rather than spying on his Muzzlebook profile like a creep. But the thought of just walking up to him, after fourteen years of neglect...

“I'd... I think...” Nick swallowed. “No... no I can't. Ruby had plenty of reasons to not have me in his life. I gotta respect that.”

He picked up the miniature that was clearly meant to be Shepsfield: a red devil with a pitchfork and batlike wings. Its cloven hooves were broad and heavy, its horns black as pitch. Marcus had done a fine job painting it.

“This'll probably be the only thing I'll ever do for him...” Nick said quietly.

For a while Nick slid the miniatures around on the map, mulling over everything else they needed to figure out. Did Shepsfield have a security system? When did he sleep? Heck, what was his schedule overall?

When Marcus returned he had the sewer system maps printed out on old-school transparencies. Nick was surprised they still made those. Everyone used PowerPoint these days right? Frankly, the fact that he grew up with overhead projectors really made him feel his age.

Marcus laid the individual sheets onto the map one by one, taping them together. Using the manholes as a guide, the two maps lined up perfectly.

It didn't take too long to devise the plan then. There was a manhole with an empty lot three blocks away that they could enter without being seen. They'd traverse the sewer tunnel 441C to 441F, take a right, and they'd be right next to Shepsfield's house.

Charlie, the burglar among them, would do the rest.

 


	13. Being a Daddy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A totally sloshed Nick inconveniences Judy, Nick reminisces about his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by Angsty Nick:
> 
> https://underguo.tumblr.com/post/157364793160
> 
> I cry so hard for sadface Nick. I just wish I was Judy just so I can hold his cute muzzle and kiss his tears away.

“ _JUDYYYYYYYY!_ ”

Judy sat bolt upright in her bed. At first she didn't recognize the voice, and the sound of some crazy mammal belting out her name in a drunken wail terrified her. Heart racing, she threw open the window and poked her head out, staring down at a very drunken Nick holding a half-empty bottle in his paw.

“ _JUUUUUDYYYYYYYYY!!!!!_ ” he yelled again. He swayed back and forth. One of his eyes was almost completely shut while the other was half-lidded as he blinked.

“Someone shut that crazy beast up!” a lion roared from the floor above her.

“ _Holy crap Judy is that fox calling out for you?_ ” shouted Bucky from next door.

“ _Of course he is!!! Is there anyone else in this building named Judy?_ ” yelled Pronk.

“ _There could be!!!_ ”

“ _Oh shut up!_ ”

“ _No_ _ **you**_ _shut up!_ ”

“ _The_ _ **both of you**_ _shut up!!!_ ” Mrs. Beaverwitz snapped at the both of them. She'd poked her head out of her window and was wearing a pink nightcap. It almost slipped from her head when she turned to look at her neighbor upstairs. “Judy! It is two in the morning! Get that fox to shut his crazy mouth!”

“I'm sorry Mrs. Beaverwitz! Sorry Pronk! Bucky!” Judy said hastily. She must've been so red through her fur. Never in her life had she been so embarrassed. “Nick! Nick just quiet down and I'll buzz you in!”

“ _OKAY!_ ”

Judy didn't trust Nick to make his way to her apartment on his own. He probably would've stumbled aimlessly through the halls pounding on every other door and causing even more of a ruckus, so she rushed down to the front entrance just as he tottered in. She half-supported, half-dragged the thoroughly trashed fox up the stairs and to her room.  He'd better not have started all this madness just because he wanted to have sex.

Once there he collapsed immediately onto her sofa, tongue flopping out the corner of his mouth. Judy had seen Nick drunk before, but alcohol had always just made him more flirtatious and prone to cuddling. She'd never seen Nick in this state.

“Oh my god Nick what were you thinking?!” she snapped. She took one of her small throw-pillows and smacked him over the head. “Why didn't you just text me?!”

“I didn't wanna wake you up...” he slurred, pulling the pillow off of his face and letting it drop to the floor.

Judy let out a disgusted grunt. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I dunno... like... five.”

“Five what?” This was way beyond five beers or shots. She looked at the whiskey that'd slipped from his paw. “Five bottles?”

“No thanks, I already got one...” He groped blindly at the floor.

Judy snatched the bottle away immediately. “You've had enough! What happened? We had such a nice time at Benjy's too!”

Though as Nick had mentioned he'd had to leave when they started up the horror movie. Even with the dated effects Judy had been so frightened that at one point she'd clung to the closest fox-shaped figure in the darkness. Chester had been quite pleased.

For some reason though Nick didn't respond to her texts the following day, and he wasn't at his apartment when she dropped by to check on him after work. At the time Judy had thought she'd been worried about nothing. Maybe Nick just needed a little more space. If so, the worst thing she could've done was hover. Seeing him like this now though, she wasn't sure that'd been the right thing to do.

Did Finnick say something to upset him? What did they talk about? Or was it something more serious than that? Nick had seemed perfectly normal when they had dinner with Benjy, but then again he had years of experience burying his feelings and acting like he couldn't get hurt. And Conall _did_ have a reason for not approving his return to active duty.

She really hoped she wouldn't have to call for an ambulance. His breathing was normal however, and he was conscious enough to make it to her apartment. Probably not alcohol poisoning, but he really would have to watch it if he didn't want to die of liver failure somewhere down the line.

“Nick...” she ran a paw over his head. “Nick what's wrong? I know I promised I'd try to respect your privacy, but something is clearly out of your control right now.”

When he opened his eyes again he was staring past her. There was such a haunted look on his face. She'd yet to see Nick cry, and right now it seemed like he just might. That she didn't know why was the worst part. It terrified her.

“I've been lying to you...” Nick muttered, still staring past her, at something she couldn't see. “I've been lying to you ever since...”

Judy's heart was pounding. Oh no. No Nick, please... please. What they had was good, wasn't it? It'd been rocky at first, but their relationship was just beginning to find its legs. She wanted to think they could work past it together, but with Nick so piss-drunk and broken right now, it must be something big. Was it really something that could jeopardize everything they've gone through?

“I... I need to tell you something...”

“All... all right, Nick. Whatever it is I won't be mad, okay?”

Yet even as she said it she imagined all the possible things he could've done that would've warranted a reaction like this. Her heart was racing. She was trembling from the tips of her ears down to her toes.

“Judy...” Nick began. “Judy, I...”

All of a sudden his eyes widened. His pupils shrank back into tiny green beads. Nick curled forward, cheeks bulging out as he spasmed.

He barely made it to the bathroom in time.

Judy helped hold his tie back as he emptied his guts into the toilet, coughing and sputtering, spitting now and again. It was so bad that he was tearing up. Snot trickled from his nostrils, and his eyes had grown bloodshot.

Nick stared in confusion at the contents of the bowl. “Wh... when did I eat vomit?” he groaned.

“Hold on,” Judy sighed. “I've got mouthwash.”

Nick tossed back the capful of peppermint mouthwash, gargled, and spat it back into the bowl. He slapped at the side of the toilet, fingers hooking onto the handle and letting the weight of his arm drag it down. The night's misdeeds swirled away nice and clean, but stray flecks still dotted his shirt and along the porcelain rim.

Judy started to tug his tie loose, slightly miffed at the interruption. All the tension just five minutes ago had been forgotten. It couldn't be helped though. At least Nick got it out of his system.

“All right Nick. Get out of your clothes and into the shower.”

He fumbled at his buttons, but did his best to comply. Naked and still quite inebriated, Nick lay with the back of his head on the edge of the tub as Judy quickly cleaned the mess before it dried.

 _What would mom and dad think?_ Judy thought to herself. _Having this stupid fox stumble into her apartment, more uselessly smashed than a Ren Faire anvil. Oh and did I mention he's a_ _ **fox**_ _?_ _That's right I'm cleaning up my_ _ **fox's**_ _vomit and he's half passed-out in my tub. No he's not a loser, dad! How could you say that? You don't even know him!_

Judy was working herself into a fine old temper when Nick finally said something in a soft little croak.

“Judy... do you want children?”

Her ears perked up, and she turned around to look at him just as she tossed the wad of soapy toilet paper into the bowl.

“What?”

“Did you ever want to have children?” Nick repeated in a murmur. His eyes were wide open now, and he stared up at the ceiling.

“I-I...” Judy stuttered. She could feel herself turning red. “W-wow... I mean, yeah I think so. What girl hasn't thought about it? But all this time I've just been so focused on my career. I never had time to even consider...”

“I can't give you children, Judy...” Nick said softly. “We both need to face up to that.”

“Nick if... if I _do_ have kids it'll be a long ways off.” She reached up to stroke his head, running her paw along one of his ears. They drooped back lifelessly. “Look, the thing I wanted most in life was to become a police officer, ever since I was a kid. I knew what I might have to give up the moment I dressed up as one for a play in grade school.”

“I'm thirty-three, Judy...” Nick said, finally turning to face her. Judy almost wish he hadn't. The pain in his eyes wasn't from the Nick she'd come to know. “I'm twelve years older than you. My entire life I've been terrified of settling down, starting a family, all that jazz. But the truth is that every year that passes it starts to eat away at me a little more.”

“Do... do you want kids?”

It took a while for him to respond. “I... yeah. Yeah I do.”

He started to sniffle then, and he shut his eyes tight. His mouth writhed as the tears began to spot his cheeks.

“I'm sorry I can't give you kids, Judy.  I'm sorry I'm a fox...”

“Nick... Nick stop, please. Don't you ever say that again,” she cupped his face, struggling to keep from crying herself, and she tried to put on her most earnest smile. “We can always adopt, you know. A little baby fox. Once we work things out, make sure we're serious, get into a steady place with work and life...”

“You'd... you'd be okay with that?” Nick sniffled. His expression had softened finally.

“I want him to grow up just like you,” Judy smiled. “Smart. And brave. And...”

“Articulate?”

Judy chuckled, wiping her cheek. She really _was_ an emotional bunny. “You're never gonna let that go are you?”

Nick lay back in the tub, silent and pensive, as Judy pulled off her shirt and slipped out of her panties. She felt a little self-conscious. They'd only ever undressed with each other in the dark, and seeing each other naked in the full illumination of the bathroom light was new.

“A girl... I already...” Nick swallowed. His mouth seemed dry. “I think I'd like a girl.”

“All right, a girl...” Judy kissed him on the forehead. “Now let's get you cleaned up.”

 

~~~~~

 

_“It's all right, Jellybean... you didn't do anything wrong.”_

_Nick was resting his head in his father's lap, crying. He couldn't help himself._

_Nick hadn't known what was to come, when Dad first took his paw and walked him down the street. At first Nick had expected ice cream when Dad said he had a surprise in store. A nice butter pecan would've been great on this hot summer day. But it'd been another one of his father's terrible puns: in-store, meaning there really was an empty storefront that he wanted to show Nick._

_He didn't quite understand Dad's excitement at first, when they approached the ramshackle little building on the corner. And even when Dad approached the door with an excited grin, drawing “Wilde & Son” in the dust-coated window, Nick was confused at first, then skeptical. But as they talked (this time over ice cream) Nick grew ever more excited. Eager, even, to begin. He'd always been good at working with his paws, and sure tailoring wasn't something he'd ever tried. But if he could master the fine arts of sidewalk chalk and play-doh sculptures, surely he could be a tailor. They just needed to get through the boring paperwork first, then the real work would begin._

_Little did they know, the boring paperwork **was** the real work._

_"Me and my boy have a plan,” dad would say as he wrapped up his sales pitch. It was well-practiced by now. “We have a location, and we have a **dream**! All we need is a loan to make it happen. It's not **ZOOtopia**. It's Wilde  & Son's **SUITopia**! Need a suit?”_

_“Suitopia welcomes you!" they would both cheer at once._

_“It's all right, Nick...” dad would say reassuringly as he led Nick away, crumpling up the rejected loan application and tossing it into the nearest bin. “No one gets approved their first time.”_

_They took the bus all over the city, to every bank that was available. Yet the red stamps came one after the other, the stack of applications they had grew thinner and thinner. Dad had to count his pocket change just to make sure they had enough for bus fare and trips to the copier's for more forms. Nick offered to break open his piggy bank for it, but Dad had just laughed and tussled his headfur._

_Yet Nick could see it wearing on him. With each rejection his father lost another sliver of dignity. John Wilde was dying a death by a thousand cuts, and papercuts, shallow as they were, hurt most of all._

_Nick hadn't meant anything by it. The two lemming bankers had been trotting forward so slowly, carrying the red stamp over their heads. There'd been so many rejections. So many banks they'd been turned away from. Nick had just wanted it to be over. His father's ears had drooped and he had turned away when Nick tried picking up the stamp so he could do it himself, and they could both get out of there and move on to the next one._

_The lemmings' eyes widened as they clung to the block of carved wood. Their little feet danced on the air. Small, terrified shrieks erupted from their mouths._

_“FOX! FOX! SECURITY!!!”_

_Nick had felt the floor shake when the rhino security guard stormed over to him, picking him up as easily as Nick had the lemmings. In that instant he understood what he'd done wrong, how terrifying it could be to be manhandled by a mammal a hundred times bigger than yourself._

_He'd learned his lesson and hoped that the rhino would put him down then, but the moment he dropped the stamp and the bankers scrambled off those hooves closed around his tiny body in a hard, stony grip. He started yelling, begging to be put down. He knew he'd done wrong, but the rhino scowled, not caring to hear it._

_“No! Dad! Daaaaad!” Nick wailed._

_Dad had turned around then, his eyes widened in horror. He chased after the two of them: begging, apologizing profusely, clinging to the rhino's arm and vowing they'd just leave quietly. But the rhino wouldn't hear of it, and continued to stomp towards the door._

_By the end Nick's panicked father had leaped onto the security guard's body, trying to pry that tree trunk of an arm loose. It was like trying to move a mountain with his bare paws._

_And the next thing Nick knew he was flying. They landed hard on the concrete, Nick bouncing twice before he rolled to a stop. He was bruised and hurting, and immediately the tears started to flow as he wailed. Dad limped over immediately, putting an arm around his boy, patting Nick's back and hushing him, telling him that it was all okay._

_Only later would Nick realize how selfish it'd been to cry like that. A young kit was softer, more bouncy. He was less prone to being hurt from being tossed like that. But an older tod couldn't take a fall quite as well, and Dad had ignored his own, more serious injuries just to comfort his son._

_And now they sat on a park bench, Nick continuing to sob. Dad had pulled him over and laid Nick's head in his lap the way he'd done whenever Nick started crying. He was ten years old... much too old for this. But the tears came, and the fact that he was crying in public, drawing the attention of every animal on the block, made him cry even harder. He was embarrassing his father, and he was shaming himself._

_But Dad didn't care. He put one arm over Nick's body to hold him still, and patted his head with his other paw. “It's all right, Jellybean...” Dad cooed, as if Nick were still a baby. His mouth curved into a faint, reassuring smile. “You didn't do anything wrong. Just let it all out, okay?”_

_They sat on that bench for a long time, even after his cries had tapered off into wet snuffles. His tears had dried, but his eyes were still puffy. Anyone who saw him would know that he'd been weeping. Nick didn't want to get up just yet._

_The sun was high in the sky, and it warmed his fur. The wooden bench was hot, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. Yet it was oddly soothing, like the press of a sun-baked river stone. With his dad still stroking his headfur, Nick felt as if he could fall asleep here, even with the sun stinging through his eyelids._

_“Are you okay to go now?” Dad asked. His paw gave Nick's tummy a gentle pat._

_“I... I... yeah. I think I am...” Nick scrubbed his nose, and gave one last sniff._

_“Let's get back home,” he said with a smile._

_“But... we still have other banks to go to don't we?” After what'd just happened that was the last thing Nick wanted to do. But he had to shrug it off. He would prove he was a big fox._

_“I'm getting kind of tired, actually,” Dad yawned dramatically. “It's all right, we'll try again tomorrow. For now, how about a Freezee?”_

_Nick's ears perked up. “Can I get blueberry?”_

_“Of course.”_

_Dad let Nick place his order at the Freezee stand. The mammal in the stall was a tall polar bear. After the encounter with the rhino seeing such a large mammal again so soon was rather intimidating. But a mammal wouldn't operate a Freezee stand if he didn't love children, and the polar bear's face broke out in a big smile when Nick approached. Nick began to relax immediately._

_“What'll it be, sport?”_

_“Medium blueberry Freezee, please!” he said happily._

_“Make it a large.” Dad said with a smile. When Nick looked up at his dad and tilted his head, his father shrugged. If Mom knew they were getting a Freezee at all she would've scolded Dad for spoiling their son' appetite. Gosh if she knew that Dad let him have a **large** one..._

_“Hey, you're a growing kit.” Dad laughed._

_“All righty! Large blueberry Freezee coming up!” the polar bear winked. He plucked a cardboard cup up from the stack of fox-sized cups and gave it a flip before popping the domed plastic cap on, filling it with a thick stream of blue slush from the dispenser._

_“That'll be $1.39!” said the bear with a grin. He leaned in close and whispered. “I added extra sprinkles for you. Hope that's okay!”_

_“It sure is!” said Nick._

_When he looked up though his ears wilted. The wallet Dad had tucked back into his pants was much too large for him. It didn't belong to his father. He knew that money was tight, that after a week of running around half the city trying to get a loan his parents were strapped for cash. Dad had spent his whole life telling Nick to be an honest fox, but now, after being turned away by every bank, after having his hopes dashed again and again, after being manhandled by a security guard as if they'd been common criminals..._

_Yes Dad had tried to pry Nick free from that rhino's arms, but in the last instant he must've reached down to the security guard's pocket..._

_“Let's go home,” Dad said, taking his son's paw in his._

_It was then that Nick could see the strain around his father's eyes. The smile that was so forced. Deep in his dad's green eyes he could see the shame. That was worst of all._

_The Freezee was cold, and that offered some relief from the summer heat. Yet it didn't taste as sweet as it should've._

 


	14. Gathering Intel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three foxes put a bug on Shepsfield's electronics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's surprisingly challenging to write a good "heist" scene. You gotta figure out the dynamics of the hustle, toss in some convincing trouble spots, and provide unexpected but simple ways for the protagonists to slip out. I included two for good measure.
> 
> Also, I'm gonna insist again that you guys read Pack Street, by the author who created Charlie:
> 
> https://pastebin.com/u/packstreet

Nick woke up that morning immensely sad.

It wasn't just dreaming of Dad again. The moment he woke up in Judy's bed, he remembered what'd happened last night. The thought of Judy having to deal with his overly drunk self, cleaning up his mess, then helping him into the shower too... the shame of it all felt as if it'd been branded into his bones.

Judy had long ago headed out for work, but on her desk she'd left him a blueberry muffin and a Snarlbucks bottled frappuccino. A little note had been propped up next to his breakfast, with a little bunny-eared smiley face and the words “Eat up and feel better!”

Nick needed to take care of his aching bladder first though. Dimly he remembered Judy making him drink a good deal of water, to make sure he wouldn't be hung over. It'd worked, but it didn't keep his mouth from tasting like an ashtray. Tottering over to the restroom to relieve himself he noticed she'd hung up his shirt and pants and tie... Judy had given them a quick wash before she'd hung them up to dry.

His friends and family were always going out of their way to take care of him weren't they? Nick felt so pathetic.

He wasn't hungry, but Judy had gone through the trouble of popping over to the coffee shop on the end of the street to pick up food for him. It felt wrong to not eat it.

He often thought of his father, when he got dressed in front of the mirror. He could remember his crisp, handsome smile, the dappled gold light of the slums filtering through the cracked window. No one knew whether it was the dust, or the mood, or the urban heat island effect. But there was something about Happytown that made everything seemed worn out and yellowed like old paper.

Even the memories.

 

_“What if I want to be an astronaut or something?” he'd asked._

_“Well there's nothing wrong with that, Jellybean. You can grow up to be anything you want if you work hard enough for it. But well, just think of it as a summer job for now. Besides, being a tailor is important too,” Dad crossed the tie over itself, and looped one end over the X. “Now there are many ways to do a tie, but this is the most classic one. The Double-Windsor. I know it sounds fancy, but if you_ _**really** _ _want to show off I can teach you the Eldredge or Trinity knots.”_

_“Clothes aren't important,” Nick had said, sticking his tongue out. Why did anyone ever need anything more than a t-shirt and a pair of shorts?_

_His father sighed. “Nick, do you know the Weaseltons from across the street?”_

_“Uh huh?” He didn't like their son. Duke was mean and his paws were always dirty._

_“Well, did you know that Mr. Weaselton only has one really nice suit? It's the most important thing in the world for his family. Because every time he goes out for a job interview, the hiring manager isn't going to see a loving father, or a hardworking mammal, or a good churchgoer. They're only going to see a weasel. They're going to think he's dirty, or lazy, or that he's going to steal from their company...”_

_“But Mr. Weaselton is really nice!”_

_“Exactly! And that's what he needs to show to the world. If he comes into an interview looking clean and sharply dressed, they won't have any reason to assume any of those nasty ideas about weasels are true when it comes to him.” Dad looped the tie through from the other side now, and his voice dropped to a low grumble as he examined his reflection. “I swear though, Charles really could learn to take better care of it. The number of times I've had to mend a seam or fix a hem on that jacket of his...”_

_“Dad... do mammals have any bad ideas about foxes?”_

_His father stopped fiddling with his tie then, and he stared into his own reflection for a moment. In a flash however the smile was back._

_“Nick, you're such a good boy. Don't you ever give other mammals an excuse to look down on you. And most importantly, don't you ever let others tell you what you're destined to be because you're a fox.”_

_Nick harrumphed. “It's dumb to judge a mammal just from their species.”_

_Dad chuckled. “Well, that just makes you smarter than a lot of other mammals out there. Now, let me show you again, and really pay attention this time. Remember to pinch the end to get a nice triangle shape.”_

_“Daaaad this is so boooring!”_

_“It's fun once you learn how! Besides, making a good knot is one of the most important skills for a Junior Ranger...”_

 

Nick examined his reflection. He'd done it to the perfect length: neither too short nor too long, and the knot was a crisp, well-proportioned wedge shape.

If there'd been a lasting lesson that his father gave him, one that Nick hadn't strayed from one inch since his youth, it was how to tie a proper Double-Windsor. It was the first and only knot his father had shown him. It was also the one he practiced the most on his own as a kit. He still remembered angrily refusing his mother's offers to help. He'd lock himself in his parents bedroom, stand rigid in front of the stand mirror Dad had used. He'd drill himself again and again.

Nick recalled all too well that dreadful black tie, that bone-white shirt, his puffy, tear-stained cheeks as he worked the knot until his fingers ached...

He'd never learned the Eldredge or the Trinity. He could've easily looked it up online. But even now, after over twenty years, it felt wrong to learn any other knot. Sometimes it almost felt as if his father might come back someday and show him like he'd promised.

Taking the disposable cellphone out of his pocket, Nick dialed Charlie's number. She answered just after two rings.

“ _Hello, Nick_.”

“I'm just checking in,” Nick said as he left Judy's apartment. “So what's the plan for tonight?”

 

~~~~~

 

One in the morning. Shepsfield has gotta be asleep by now.

Marcus, paunchy that he was, had a hard time clambering over the driver's seat and into the back of the van. It'd been a bit of a rush job picking up this piece of junk. They couldn't borrow Finnick's for a covert op after all, not with the mural painted on the side. Fortunately with all the new electric and hybrid vehicles coming in old gas-guzzlers like this were being phased out. A cool hundred dollars had been enough to bribe the car lot lackey to let them borrow this trade-in for a couple of weeks before it was scrapped.

Nick could still smell traces of incense and patchouli oil on the interior. He didn't want to know how many hippie lovemaking sessions went on back here.

“All right, let's review,” Marcus said, dusting himself off. He indicated the utility belt and the assortment of USB drives and devices in its pockets. They'd all been labeled.

“Left side's for bugging his computer if he has one. Make sure it's on. He doesn't have to be logged in or anything, just figure out which operating system he's using and use the matching thumb dive. No matter what the comp'll automatically start trying to install any drivers associated with it, and the virus'll install itself that way. Just to be safe leave it in for a good five minutes or so until I confirm that the installation's worked. I've seen some rigs that run like molasses.”

He pointed towards a larger device, one of his own making. “This one... it's set up to bug his phone. Just plug it into the charging port while it's on, and again the bug'll install itself. We'll be able to record every conversation he has, access his data, and most importantly...”

“We got it, Nikon,” Nick said, annoyed. He just wanted to get this over with.

“He resembles more of a Phantom Phreak in my view,” added Charlie.

“Wh... crikey those names are so dated...”

Hopping out of the van Nick glanced around to see if anyone was up and about. Granted at this time of night the neighborhood was deserted, but who knew if some nocturnal mammal was doing his rounds or not?

He wore a plain white button-up shirt today, with one of his less colorful ties. He needed to keep a low profile after all, and a bright green Pawaiian shirt and purple striped tie would've caught too much attention if anyone did happen to glance in his direction at this hour.

Slipping the crowbar into the slot of the manhole cover Nick pulled it off to the side. The ringing sound of metal scraping against concrete made him tense, but he reassured himself that no one was around, and any mammals who _did_ live in the buildings across the street would've gone to bed long ago.

Charlie buckled on the utility belt and climbed down as Nick followed. On his end Marcus helped replace the cover, just in case.

The sewer wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. The wastewater wasn't all that pungent and it flowed cleaner than Nick had expected. It flowed along a channel down the middle of the tunnel too, with plenty of clean concrete for them to walk along. Metal walkways also allowed them to pass over the stream to the other side.

Nick had known plenty of sanitation workers, and apparently it wasn't as messy a job as one might expect. In fact, plenty of them had a certain down-to-earth pride about maintaining Zootopia's underground. Commerce might be the lifeblood of a city, but a proper sewer system was what kept it clean and healthy.

In fact, Nick had heard that in some of the oldest parts of the city, the parts that'd been built three hundred years ago, the buildings had to be raised three feet just so they could install a sewer system when the city decided that one was needed. Nick wouldn't have been surprised if some hidden warrens have been lost to history. What sorts of criminal enterprises could be hidden down here? He'd have to puzzle it over sometime. Maybe dig up some of the older maps from the local historical society. Could be useful if any criminals decided to literally go underground.

That thought gave Nick pause. At one point he would've _been_ one of those criminals. It was so strange now that he thought about it, that he was looking at things from the other side now as a cop.

It bothered him. Deeply.

“Charlie?” Nick asked as they walked down the corridor. “Do you think I sold out?”

“I don't mean to seem callous, Wilde, but I don't think about you much at all.”

“Look, just... do you think I deserve being a cop? Do you think that if I'd actually worked hard, applied myself since I was a kit... if I'd just made better decisions in my life I could've gotten on the force in, say, my twenties or something?”

“You're circumventing the true question, Wilde. What you're _really_ asking is if the powers that be could've allowed you to become a cop. If, that is, you hadn't helped solve the high-profile Night Howler case.”

“Well? What do you think?”

“I think that I need to focus on the task at paw,” said Charlie. “And I think that my opinion doesn't matter. You would be better served seeking validation from someone else.”

Nick's ears wilted.

They'd come to tunnel 441F and turned right, and the first ladder they saw would lead up to the street right by Shepsfield's house. Nick and Charlie each climbed up one side of the ladder, and together they pushed the manhole cover up and slid it off to the side halfway.

Charlie inserted her earpiece, as did Nick.

“Testing, testing,” she said. Her voice came through Nick's earpiece as well. “Check, check. Marcus can you hear me?”

“ _Loud and clear, Sheila_ ,” Nick could hear Marcus through his own earpiece. He would never understand the origins of Pawstralian slang.

“Check, check,” Nick said. “Mic check.”

“ _I hear you too, y'old piker. All right let's do this. Charlie, just tap your mic if you run into any trouble._ ”

“What exactly do you plan on doing if she _does_ run into trouble?” asked Nick.

“ _Bailing my fluffy ass out of here, obviously. So stay safe._ ”

With a flick of her tail Charlie was up and out quick as a snake. She darted around the fence and into the narrow space between the shrubbery and Shepsfield's house, and was gone from Nick's sight.

Nick slid the manhole cover back just enough to leave a crack, and took the flexible scope out of his bag. Feeding the camera end up he secured the it on the edge of the manhole.

Connecting the wire to the screen he climbed back down to crouch on the concrete walkway. Nick flicked on the monitor and worked the controls, adjusting the scope so he could get a good angle of the street. The joysticks let him rotate his view, and the buttons allowed him to zoom in and out. Nothing. Good.

“Scope's up,” Nick whispered. “Street's clear, no one in sight.”

“ _I'm at the back door_ ,” Charlie said. A faint rattling sound came through the earpiece. “ _I'm in. Commencing radio silence now._ ”

“Good luck.”

Best estimate was that Charlie would need ten, fifteen minutes at a bare minimum. Nick continued to monitor the surroundings, swiveling the scope in a circle. He could only really get a view twenty feet down each side of the street and a bit of the sidewalk, but it was better than nothing. Five minutes passed. There was nothing. Six. Seven. The timer on his phone continued to count.

All of a sudden it buzzed.

 _Shit shit!!!_ Nick thought. He nearly dropped the scope monitor, and scrambled to swipe his phone and cancel the call. How could he get reception here?! And who was calling him at this hour?! Shit if the mics worked in the sewers he supposed it wasn't inconceivable that the phone would too. Had to give it to Furizon. They really did have great coverage.

The name that popped up though: Carrots.

Frantically Nick typed out a text just to keep her from calling again.

_Hey Carrots. Sorry but I can't hear a thing here._

_**Sorry for calling this late but I know you don't sleep for another couple hours. What you doing?** _

_At the bar with Finnick again._

There was a faint pause, and the animated ellipsis popped up indicating that Judy was typing up a response. What was so pressing that she couldn't wait until tomorrow?

_**Really? Again?** _

_Yeah sorry. We just don't get to see much of each other these days._

There was a long pause and Nick took the moment to check the scope again. Still clear.

_**Nick isn't it too soon? After last night... maybe you need to look after yourself first.** _

The memory of the previous night was still raw in Nick's mind. He'd almost ruined everything. He'd gotten just a hair away from fessing up. With Judy on the line, while Nick was squatting in a sewer acting as a lookout for a burglar breaking into Jared Shepsfield's house of all places...

Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. How the hell did he ever last that long as a con artist, he begin to wonder, when it turned out he _did_ have a conscience after all? God this would crush Judy if she found out, wouldn't it? She'd been the one who trusted him, who'd sponsored his entrance into the academy.

Doubts of whether he actually deserved to be a cop began to surface again. Not just whether or not he'd actually earned his way into it in the first place, but now he was betraying his oath to the job.

 _Damn it Charlie, couldn't you have found someone else? Found someone who didn't have so much to lose?_ He asked himself.

No... no that wasn't right. The only reason Nick did have this much to lose now was because of the sheer fucking luck that he'd crawled out of the slums of Happytown. The luck to stumble into solving a major case that earned him positive name recognition from Zootopia's finest. The luck to find a rabbit who'd actually believed in him. A bunny who, despite every instinct she should've had... had fallen in love with a lying fox. Not all foxes got that many chances.

And not all foxes were working so hard to toss them out the window.

He didn't know what was the greater injustice. That in general foxes had such a hard time going legit because of what everyone else thought of them, or that the powers that be gave Nick the chance to finally make it, only to press him into a situation where he had to potentially throw it all away.

No. He was getting distracted. He couldn't get distracted. Nick checked the scope again, down both sides of the street and along the sidewalk. Still nothing.

_**Nick? Are you there?** _

_I'm here, Carrots_ , he replied. _Don't worry. Finnick didn't have anything to do with what happened last night. I'm doing much better now. Thanks for breakfast._

Another long pause, and he took the chance to check the street again. He had to sweep the area constantly.

_**Nick, you scared me.** _

He stared at the message for a good long while. Nick's fingers trembled as he typed out a response.

S _orry about that, Carrots. I was just in a bad place. I'm much better now._ It was a lie of course. On top of all the others it shouldn't have counted for much, but somehow typing that out still felt like a needle working its way deep into his chest.

_**Nick we need to talk. I'm really really worried about you and I just want you to be okay. Can we go over it tomorrow? I'll get out of work early and maybe we can have the whole afternoon together.** _

He stared at the message. Tomorrow afternoon. Him and Charlie and Marcus were supposed to comb through the intel tomorrow from morning till night. But the whole afternoon with Judy... god it'd been so fun dating. Actually dating, before he'd gotten dragged into this madness. Even the terrifying prospect of having to open up to her didn't tarnish that.

And all of a sudden Nick could hear gravel crunching on the street above. The sound of wheels.

FUCK!

He rotated the scope. His jaw dropped.

“Charlie! Charlie, there's a fucking cop car right outside!” Did she trip a silent alarm? Did Shepsfield call 911? With her on radio silence there was no way to know. Maybe he'd woken up and snapped her beanpole of a neck. No, they still would've heard something on the mic, but this wasn't good.

_**Nick? Please answer.** _

The sound of Judy's text popping up only heightened his panic.

“ _Oh shit oh shit oh SHIT!!!_ ” Marcus squeaked. From his end Nick could hear the van engine revving up.

“Marcus calm the fuck down! If you bail on us no I swear to GOD I will hunt you down and strangle your fat little neck!” Nick hissed.

“ _No please no..._ ” Marcus whined on the other end. There was the click of the van shifting gears...

Nick took a deep breath. He tried to center myself. No, no there's nothing to worry about. “Marcus calm down! They're probably just a regular neighborhood patrol. The ZPD knows that Blue dealers are haunting the Downtown area, whoever's in that car is probably just keeping an eye out for them.”

 _ **NICK.**_ The message came with a hard buzz on his phone.

It was all his stupid fault. He'd gotten distracted. He'd panicked. And in turn Nick had freaked out Marcus as well. Nick did his best to tamp down the fear now, keep it in control. All his life he'd had to keep his feelings on lockdown. The shame. The guilt. The abuse from those who saw themselves as his betters.

He could still hear that goddamn woodchuck's voice mocking him for crying.

He could still feel that rhino's hooves tight around his skinny middle.

He could still see the shame in his father's eyes, as he held a large Freezee meant to comfort him. A Freezee that'd been bought with money that his dad felt he had no choice but to steal. A Freezee that proved all the fucking prey mammals right. All after dad had spent his entire life trying to do the right thing. To live legit like one of _them._

“Keep calm, Marcus. Turn off the goddamn engine, and stay calm. They won't have anything on you unless you give them a reason.”

He could hear the plump little fox panting on the other line. And slowly. Miraculously, Marcus' breathing began to steady. The engine cut off.

And just like that, Nick watched on the screen as the cop car rolled away. He kept his eye on it for a good long while, and when it was finally out of sight he spoke up.

“Coast is clear, Charlie...” Nick breathed, slumping against the wall. As he did so he typed a message to Judy.

_Sure, sounds good._

 

~~~~~

 

The trip back to the van was blessedly uneventful. Marcus greeted them cheerfully, as if he hadn't nearly pissed himself after all.

“Well good on ya, mate!” he chuckled. “I gotta admit you gave me quite a scare there.”

“Yeah, sure,” Nick grumbled. He started to wonder if Marcus really _could_ be relied on. No wonder he'd gotten embroiled in the Chez Cheese coupon debacle. Was this guy even a fox? He may have been smart but he didn't have a cunning bone in his body.

“What happened?” asked Charlie as she shut the van door behind her.

“Sorry, I think the patrol car pulled up while I had the scope rotating in the other direction.”

“That's not what I meant,” said Charlie. “You panicked, Wilde. I would've expected that behavior from Asner, but not you.”

“Oi, I'm sitting right here,” said Marcus, his ears lay flat, and his tail hung limp behind him. Nick wasn't in the mood to tell him off, but he was sure Charlie would have harsh words with him later.

Thankfully, Charlie seemed to shrug if off. She wasn't all that sharp when it came to the nuances of a tod's complex feelings. Or the not-so-complex ones, either. But she certainly knew when to leave something well enough alone.

It'd taken a few more minutes after that scare for Marcus to confirm on his laptop that both viruses had been successfully installed. They now had complete access to his data over the net. Only then did Charlie leave Shepsfield's house and lock the door behind her. Or “making her egress,” as she'd called it. It took a bit longer this time around. Apparently she was better at picking locks than she was setting them back.

“Your ass is mine...” Marcus said, wiggling his fingers eagerly. He began typing away. “What should we check first here? Finances? Browsing history? Emails?”

“How about we save this for tomorrow?” Nick said. He felt emotionally drained. A normal hustle had never been this taxing.

“All right, all right,” said Charlie, closing the laptop and stuffing it in a pack. “Should I drop you off at Judy's or your apartment?”

“Mine, I think,” said Nick. He couldn't face her. Not right now.

Marcus had just hopped into the front seat when a car drove past, the headlights shining through the front window momentarily. The three foxes tensed.

“I... I think that was the patrol...” Marcus whimpered.

“Stay calm,” Nick hissed. “They've got nothing on you. They have absolutely no reason to pull you over.”

“Yeah...” Marcus said, sweating. He started the van, but his eyes widened when he glanced into his side mirror. “Shit she's chukin' a yuey!”

Marcus didn't make it one block before red-and-blue lights flickered through the back window and the trailing whine of a siren sounded behind them.

Nick and Charlie hunkered down immediately, though Nick cursed under his breath. Marcus couldn't possibly know how to talk his way out of a routine stop.

Something occurred to Nick suddenly, something that made him even more worried. Oh crap.

“License and registration, please,” said a female officer's voice.

“Oi, what's this, officer? What'd I do?” Marcus said. The hacker realized it as well... they didn't have the van's paperwork on paw. No registration, no insurance even.

“I said license and registration, _fox_ ,” the Downtown patrol officer said, more harshly this time. Now that was uncalled for.

“What're you pulling me over for though? I didn't do anything! You just stopping me cuz I'm driving while vulpine?” some of the panic had filtered from his voice. Not nearly enough, but he was certainly doing a bit better than Nick had expected. Not that this would allay a cop's suspicions of a fox in an unmarked van out so late.

There was a faint click of a button being undone. Nick knew she'd placed her paw on her sidearm.

“Step out of the car, fox.”

“B-but...” Marcus whimpered. He sounded truly terrified now. “Please, I didn't do anything...”

“I said step out of the car. You will lie down on the street and I'm going to cuff you. You will stay there while I search your vehicle. If you resist I _will_ use force to subdue you.”

“Y-you can't do this!”

“I'm giving you until the count of three. One...”

“I- I have my license! Please just-”

“Two...”

“No please!”

“Th...”

“Wait!” Nick said as he put a paw up, trying to lean into the front seat nice and slow. Despite that the officer drew her weapon and was pointing the gun right at him. She was just a hair away from pulling the trigger.

The officer was a pig with silver-white hair beneath her hat. Nick hadn't seen her around ZPD headquarters much... she must've been from the local Downtown subdivision. Deep down he seethed. A pig cop. Charlie said that Downtown pig cops had answered Shepsfield's call. They'd been the ones who'd cuffed Tommy while he was unconscious, left him to bleed to death internally while they took Shepsfield's statement.

Yet Nick managed to put on a sheepish grin. The officer's snout wrinkled as she gave him a funny look. She lowered her gun. Slowly. Jeez was that live ammo she was using?!

“Nicholas Wilde?” her features twisted into a look of utter confusion.

“Yeah... yeah in the flesh...” he laughed. He didn't know the cops in the Downtown area, but they knew him. He'd been on the news along with Judy after all. First fox officer.

“Sorry, Brian here is with me,” Nick said, tossing out the first fake name that came to mind. “We were just hanging out, he was just taking me back home. What's the problem, Officer...?”

“Swinton,” she said coldly. “I'm on the lookout for suspicious mammals. We're dealing with a drug epidemic, and we know for a _fact_ that dealers have been operating in the Downtown area.”

“Suspicious mammals? This Nervous Nellie here?” Nick glanced down at Marcus, then playfully pinched the hacker's plump cheek. “Aww did someone start selling Blue without telling me? Where's my cut, huh? Where's my cut of that sweet, sweet drug money?”

Nick gave Marcus a noogie, and the fat fox yelped and squirmed, but did his best to play along. “Aw shucks, Nick! Stop it! You know I don't do that!”

Officer Swinton huffed. “That still doesn't explain why you're here, Wilde.”

“Like I said we were just...” Nick's mind scrambled for a reason. It was coming onto two in the morning now... what places were still open at this time? “Out for a Bug-Burga. Late-night nocturnal snack run. Look, sorry to spook you like that, but Brian here really needs to get me back home before it gets any later. Don't want him to fall asleep at the wheel, ya know?”

Swinton just stared at him.

“Seriously, one officer to another, just let us off with a warning this time, all right?”

Swinton's snout wrinkled. “Officer Wilde, please step out of the-”

“Is something wrong, Honey?” Charlie said, popping up beside him now. She wrapped her paws around Nick's neck. Her voice, usually so flat and androgynous, was now pitched and girlish, sweet to the point of being cloying. She sounded oddly sultry. And in an actually convincing way. Holy crap when had she practiced _this_ act?

More than that, she was naked. Charlie had a skinny, almost sexless figure, but while she was hiding she'd mussed up her fur, and she now had that look of post-coital muss. She rubbed herself for emphasis. “Niiiick I'm ready for another rouuuund...”

Nick could've hidden the mortification that spiked through him. He was disciplined enough to do so. But after the split second of shock his mind kicked into gear and he decided to roll with it instead. He let Swinton see every ounce of the morbid discomfort that was blistering through him now.

“Eheheheheh!” he laughed nervously. He didn't need to fake it. “I... I guess you caught us! Look Swinton, I'm begging you... if you could just keep this quiet...”

Nick didn't need to say another word. Swinton's snout wrinkled in disgust as she snorted. “All right, Wilde. You three get going. I really don't want to know how the fat one is involved.”

“Fucking hypocritical body-shamer...” Marcus grumbled. He was bad in a pinch, but he was good at shedding the panic once it was over. “Pig calling a fox fat... I'm just big boned.”

Nick groaned and slapped a paw to his forehead as Charlie got dressed.

He really could use a stiff drink. But after the previous night he wasn't sure his liver could handle it.

 


	15. We Need To Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy finally confronts Nick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're heading for the home stretch so expect a rapid flurry of updates in the next few days.
> 
> Also, thanks to Anteroinen for finding this:
> 
> https://static1.e621.net/data/5a/b3/5ab37af3cbdaf6592682a2deb4b71b36.png

 

For the umpteenth time Judy reviewed the CCTV footage of Shepsfield.

She'd and Benjy had been on desk duty today, but with a properly sized keyboard Judy was usually able to get hers done with plenty of time to spare. Which was good... she'd scheduled her meetup with Nick to start at two o'clock at her place. Something had been eating at him ever since the Lone Digger. Though frankly, she couldn't have been sure that was what'd triggered it.

Maybe she'd come on too strong. Rushed things too much. She _had_ been the one to kiss him first and push him into this after all.

And now there was all that talk about having kits and starting a family... she'd tried not to think about how much older he was, but male foxes didn't have the same biological clocks females did, right? Then again, she could well understand Nick worrying about having kids too late. If he waited any longer Nick would be well into retirement before he had any grandchildren. Maybe too old to enjoy being a grandfather.

It was no wonder Dr. Conall had kept him on leave after two sessions. It was so hard to get into Nick's head. He needed his privacy of course, but if it was coming at the cost of his sanity...

Judy shook it off. No, all of this was too much speculation. She'd just have to clear it up with him this afternoon. For now she should just focus on what she could now that she was on the ZPD intranet.

It was frustrating, seeing the scattered hints of what was happening on camera. The CCTV coverage of Flock Street really was spotty at best. A background check on Shepsfield hadn't been helpful either. A couple of traffic tickets, some noise complaints he'd called in. Frankly, the fact that the responding officers had just taken Shepsfield at his word and neglected to collect forensic evidence was pure incompetence. What exactly was the Downtown division up to?

She rubbed her temples. It looked like the Daywood attack might just be a dead case after all. Not that she was giving up. Judy never truly gave up on anything before.

Judy hopped out of her seat and was about to get Benjy to drop her off at home when she noticed an officer walking down the row of cubicles. Judy had seen the pig before, though she didn't work at Savanna Central.

“Officer Hopps!” the pig said with a wave.

“Oh! Officer...” Judy wracked her brain. The recognition hit her then. They'd spoken at the initiation ceremony, when Judy was first inducted into the ZPD. Much like bunnies, pigs police officers were pretty uncommon, though the glass ceiling for them had been broken years back. A squad of warthogs did, after all, form the core of the Razorbacks division. At the party Sylvia Swinton had shaken her paw, congratulated her, and they'd had a nice little conversation over canapes and apple cider for a while.

“Officer Swinton!” Judy said cheerfully. “How are you doing!”

“Oh I'm doing well, very well...” she said sweetly. “Been so busy on the late-night patrols keeping an eye out for Blue dealers. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your work.”

“Oh it's just fine, really! I was actually just headed out.”

“Well, I was just in the area and I thought I'd make a quick social call. I realize this may come as a bit out of the blue but...” she fiddled with her hooves. “Well... I suppose the rumors about you and Nick Wilde dating are...”

Judy felt the flush spreading across her entire body. They weren't exactly hiding it of course, but it was still something she was still rather shy about. It was one thing for strangers to gawk at them when they went to a cafe or a gelato shop. It was another thing entirely for her fellow ZPD officers to mutter about it behind their backs. Benjy had hinted that there were rumors going on of course, but this was the first time she'd been confronted like this.

She must've been blushing to the tips of her ears now. Frantically Judy began to wonder what her fellow officers were saying and thinking every time she and Nick walked past or were seen going out on a patrol.

“Ah. I see.”

“Oh! It... well... it all just kind of fell into place really...” Judy stammered. “It's very recent, and we're still trying to work the kinks out. But it's a process. Nick is just... SO sweet.”

Swinton leveled a flat stare at her.

“Really?”

Judy nodded. “Yeah! I mean he's been taking me out for months to show me around. We've done _so much_ already. The casinos in Sahara Square, skating at Tundratown, watching some traditional fire dancing in the Rainforest District... some of the best bars Downtown. He even set up a picnic on the outskirts of the city!”

Granted as of late they'd slowed the pace down a bit and their dates have been a bit more mundane. It wouldn't do to burn out too quickly on the biggest and brightest that Zootopia had to offer. But from what Nick had implied, they had a long way to go before that happened.

Swinton sighed. The smile had melted from her face, and she now looked at Judy sadly.

“Look Judy, I realize this is none of my business, but there really is something you should know...”

Something inside Judy froze still, like a cold fist had clenched her insides.

“Last night, around two in the morning, I pulled him over in an unmarked van. He was... well he was with a vixen, Judy. And let's say they were in a compromising position.”

Judy couldn't believe what she was hearing. As in, she couldn't even process it: the words Swinton said made sense individually, but put together it seemed like a nonsensical jumble that refused to stick together in her mind.

“Wh... could... could you repeat that?”

“It's true,” said Swinton, shaking her head sadly. “I was working the Downtown beat and I pulled over a suspicious-looking van for possibly dealing Blue. The driver was acting very squirrely, so I was just about to search the vehicle when Nick Wilde popped out from the back and told me, as a fellow officer, that they were together, and that there was nothing going on. Well I still didn't like the situation but then... this naked vixen pops up alongside him and started... well, I don't know if she was a prostitute or just someone he was doing on the side, but...”

For a while Judy just stared at Swinton, trying to mesh what she was saying with what she knew about Nick. Nick wasn't like that. He was trustworthy, and sweet, and he could be _so_ romantic and considerate. He just seemed so unsure of himself sometimes.

But there'd been such a dark side to him recently. When he stumbled drunkenly to her apartment the other night he seemed practically suicidal. Sobbing over his inability to have kits with her, apologizing for having been born a fox, of all things. In any ways their respective species was a bigger deal for him than it was for Judy. That morning Judy had wondered if she should take the day off just to make sure he was okay.

Was this why he'd been acting so strangely? Why the light in his eyes had seemed dimmer, and his smug little grin seemed more faded? Nick had been brooding about something, and that picnic... at the time she'd thought it was so sweet. But now she started to wonder if he was just trying to overcompensate out of guilt.

A pair of hooves wrapped around Judy in a warm, tight hug. It was strange to feel practically furless skin press against her. Swinton smelled faintly of roses.

Judy hadn't even noticed the tears beginning to well up.

“He's... Nick's not like that... he wouldn't...” she insisted. After all they'd been through together, after saving each other's lives and after all they'd shared...

_She could still feel Nick's paws holding her. His nails had been clipped and filed, but when he dragged his blunted claws along her middle it left an electric shudder running up her spine. His pointed snout, such a strange, awkward shape to her at the time, nuzzled against her cheek. There was that long, lithe body, those pointed ears, that bushy tail..._

_Judy trusted him completely. She trusted Nick with her life. Yet there was a small, hidden part of her that was afraid, but in a good way. And that primal thrill of being with a bunny's natural predator, of feeling his fangs nipping gently on her ear, his wet noise drawing a trail through the fur of her belly, his tongue licking her and slipping_ _**deeper** _ _..._

What did it feel like for him to be with a vixen, she wondered? More natural, she supposed. He probably didn't need to be as gentle. He wouldn't be so nervous, so shy, so unsure of himself the way he often was with her. He wouldn't have to be afraid of hurting her in the process.

“ _Nick Wilde is dangerous. More dangerous than you can ever know,”_ Bellwether's cryptic warning came back to her all of a sudden. _“If you stay with him, then one of these days he_ _ **will**_ _hurt you. And worse.”_

“Oh Judy it's all right. He's a fox. You know how they are.”

Swinton's words jolted Judy from her thoughts.

“Wh-what? No. No, I don't know that...” She was too upset to sound properly angry, but she was. In fact, she was _livid_ at what Swinton just said.

But the pig didn't quite seem to catch what Judy meant. Instead she just gave Judy a sympathetic pat on the back. “Well, now you do, I suppose. Tell you what, I know this really sweet bunny rabbit in accounting. Very perky and down-to-earth. Fresh off the farm just like you. I think you'd like him...”

“Please leave.”

“Oh of course. You need some time to process it,” Swinton pulled away then, nodding. “And don't you worry, I won't tell a soul. We little guys have to stick together, don't we? Take care of yourself, Officer Hopps.”

With that, Swinton was gone.

For a while Judy sat at her desk, scrubbing the tears out of her eyes and sniffling.

_I'm not going to be some emotional bunny_... Judy told herself. _I'm not gonna cry, not here..._

Benjy knew something was wrong when he stopped by her cubicle to drop her off at home. He said nothing however, and he silence between them was oppressive the whole drive there. Judy was still getting used to the stoic indifference of mammals in the big city, and frankly back at the Burrows the lack of privacy could be a bit daunting sometimes. Yet now she wished Benjy would just talk to her.

She wished _Nick_ would just talk to her.

 

~~~~~

 

The biggest problem they faced when going through Shepsfield's emails and browsing history was how completely _normal_ they were.

Oh sure, there'd been a few fun little chestnuts to discover. For one, when it came to porn Shepsfield was apparently into prey-on-pred stuff. As in, predator females being put on all fours for an antelope or sheep or something. There was usually a bit of a humiliation element to it, like a she-wolf being pounded by a stag, or a fox vixen acting like she was trying to fend off a harsh dicking from a ram. But among the sea of perversions a guy waded through in the age of the internet, this wasn't all that unusual. Still it might've indicated a certain... attitude he held when it came to interspecies relations.

While they'd been hoping for clear indications that he was a bigot, they found nothing of the sort. Shepsfield wasn't a regular on any prey supremacist websites. He'd never gone to Hornfront or read their pieces arguing that predators were ruining Zootopia or promoting fox-free neighborhoods. Sure he mostly watched Hooves news, but he was their target demographic after all.

However, Shepsfield did read the occasional Zoother article, and he was incredibly interested in home security. He regularly pulled up pages on police statistics, read news about crime rates in Zootopia. Plus he'd been following the whole Blue epidemic with some interest. It all added up to a ram who seemed to have a pretty understandable concern about his own safety, which was precisely what a jury could sympathize with.

But that was precisely what was so insidious, wasn't it?

At the end of the day, it didn't take a prey supremacist to assault an innocent fox and get away with it. It didn't take some bitter, spiteful asshole in a white hood carrying a hempen noose to shatter a fourteen-year-old kit's ribcage, to the background of sagacious approval from his peers that he did the right thing. It took a perfectly normal ram, with perfectly normal fears, to nearly kill a child in the name of self-defense.

Foxes being ground under the wheel of this brutal machine... it was perfectly normal.

Finding something on Shepsfield would've made things easier. The fact was Jared Shepsfield apparently saw himself as a hero. The community watchman who protected his neighbor from all those scary preds. And the world was patting him on the back and supporting him for it.

Nick was disappointed that they couldn't dig up any major red flags to pin on the guy. Really though it wasn't necessary. Everything had been falling into place. They'd set up all they'd needed to now. The plan would continue. Indeed, Shepsfield being what he was might even work in their favor...

Yeah. Yeah that _would_ work. He'll have to talk it over with Charlie, she would have a mind for this. Marcus too. But Nick suspected they would approve. And in fact, it may have been what Charlie was planning all along when she conscripted Nick.

Though he had something to do first.

“Hey Carrots, I'm here for our...” Afternoon hangout time? Rendezvous? Date? “Well, I'm here. Can you buzz me in?”

She said nothing on the phone as the door gave a click. Huh. That was weird.

Nick was nervous enough already. Whenever a girl said they needed to talk it always put a guy on edge. Or maybe it was just a fox thing, he couldn't quite be sure. Fact was though he wasn't quite ready for this, even after he spent the whole morning sifting through mind for he could say and what he couldn't.

When Judy opened the door however, Nick knew something was wrong.

He set the small bundle of chrysanthemums he'd collected-slash-stolen from his neighbor's garden on her table. With the way they'd poked out from the side of the fence they'd been technically fair game.

Judy's ears drooped, and there was none of the bright, chipper affection she normally had.

“What's wrong?”

“Nick...” Judy murmured. “Nick, have I been naive? I mean, I probably have. Dumb bunny, right? Doesn't know anything...”

“Carrots...”

“No, Nick. No. You don't get to call me that. Not right now.” She began to sniffle then, but the tears didn't come easily. Nick realized then that long before he arrived the tears had all been cried out. “Officer Swinton came in today. She said she caught you with... with a vixen last night.”

He knew it. Nick knew that Swinton couldn't be trusted to keep her goddamn piehole shut.

“Judy, it... it didn't happen like that. I promise, you're the only one I care about. When I'm with you, you're the only gal I wanna be with...”

Nick wrapped his arms around her, and looped his tail around her ankles. At first Nick was worried she was going to slap him, or punch him, or push him away. But surprisingly there was none of that drama. She just gripped his shirt and sniffled. She still loved him enough to hear him out first. He wasn't sure if he deserved it.

Nick sighed. “Look, last night Swinton pulled us over just as we were heading back to my apartment. Just because the driver was a fox. Things were escalating, and she was about to toss the van, so I decided to step out and talk her down. For a second she actually pulled her gun on me! Can you believe it?”

“...Actually, I kinda can,” Judy's voice was muffled against his chest. “She's... she was wrong to stop you guys like that.”

“Yeah...” Nick said as he brought the both of them down to sit on Judy's bed. “Swinton's got some serious anti-fox issues...”

“If... if you say that you didn't sleep with this vixen, I'll believe you...” Judy snuffled, though it sounded like she wasn't completely sure.

“Ha! No way in hell would I touch Charlie. God, it'd... it'd be like sleeping with a sister,” Nick chuckled nervously. “She just decided to help out by acting like we were being intimate in the back. I swear, she's gotta be autistic or something, jumping into it like that. I could feel my fur crawling the moment she pressed up against me. But I just rolled with it.”

“You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right? No, you weren't really having sex with this naked vixen in the back of a van, you two were just acting like you were to get out of a traffic ticket.”

Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yeah. I... I know.”

“There are bigger problems with that story, Nick. Swinton said the driver was acting funny. 'Squirrely,' I think she said. But I know Finnick could talk himself out of a situation like that. So who was driving?”

Nick's tongue seemed to stick to the roof of his mouth. He wanted to lie to her, but for once his mind was blank.

“When I texted you last night you said you were at the bar with Finnick. So who. Was. Driving.”

He could feel the cage snapping shut.

“You... you don't know him, Judy.”

Judy pulled out of his grip then, smacking his paws away as if she didn't want to be touched. “And let's say this vixen... Charlie was it? Let's say she really _was_ just trying to fake it. But why exactly were you three so desperate to get away from a cop? Why couldn't you guys just let her take a quick look in the van?”

Nick's eyebrows furrowed. Okay, he was getting angry now. “A fox has a right to his privacy. And did I mention she pulled a gun on me?”

“That's not- eugh! No that's not what I meant!” Judy snapped. “Nick I've known you long enough to trust that you won't cheat on me. Just because I'm a female bunny doesn't mean I'm gonna get hysterical about our relationship! But I also know about the kind of trouble you can get yourself into! At least respect me enough to not treat me like an _idiot_ who doesn't see the signs!”

She was pacing back and forth, but now she whirled around, jabbing a finger into his chest. It was strange how someone so much smaller could prod him so firmly. “I already know you've lied to me about what you've been doing these past few weeks. You admitted it yourself that night when I had to clean up after you because you got too drunk to _keep_ lying to me. So here's what I think: I think you've tangled yourself in another hustle.”

Nick could only stare at her silently. Somehow, after all his years of scheming, after all the successful lies he'd told, the feelings he'd shielded from others, the trouble he'd gotten in and out of, he was drawing up a blank. This little bunny he'd fallen for had stripped away every wall he'd built around himself, and left him completely vulnerable. He couldn't have felt more exposed if he'd been naked and shaved to the skin in the middle of Savannah Central right now.

“Or, you know. Maybe I could be wrong about you completely,” Judy huffed, beginning to deflate a little. “Maybe this is some elaborate scheme to make me _think_ you're hustling, just so you can hide the fact that you're sleeping with someone else. I have no idea what goes on in that rat maze you call a brain.”

“Judy...” Nick said, his voice beginning to crack. Slowly he cupped her shoulders with his paws. “Ever since I was a kid I'd lost all hope. I didn't think I had any real future playing it straight in the city. Being with you... you've loved me enough to make me forget about how much I hated myself. For a little while at least. I'd never throw that away on another vixen.”

For a long time Judy was silent, but to her credit she didn't tear up. “So it's a hustle then.”

Nick dropped his gaze. He couldn't look her in the eye.

“Yes.”

She, too, stared at a spot on the floor. “Are you selling Blue?”

“Wh- no!” Nick pulled back, horrified. “How- how could you even think that?”

Judy looked up at him now, her violet eyes stern and piercing like awls. “Is what you're doing illegal?”

“No!” She knew damn well Nick was an expert at skirting the law and obeying it to the letter when running his cons. Technically, though the break-in was illegal as hell, what he was _going_ to do wasn't quite illegal.

After all, as a wise fox once said:  It's only illegal if you're caught. 

“Is anyone going to get hurt?”

Nick wrapped his arms around her. At first it was like hugging a statue: stiff and solid, despite her softer, plusher bunny parts. “I promise Judy. No one is gonna get hurt.”

He didn't know whether to be proud or ashamed of that answer. Turns out he _could_ lie to his sly bunny after all.

Slowly Judy melted into his arms, and he felt her paws wrap around his middle once more. “You know I won't be satisfied with that, Nick.”

Nick sighed, and he breathed in her scent. So soft and sweet and faintly floral, like a springtime meadow. He could just drown in the smell of her.

“One week,” Nick promised. “Give me one week, and I'll tell you everything. We'll go out to a nice dinner, and I'll lay out all my secrets. That's what bunnies do right? No secrets?”

“More or less,” Judy sighed. “This probably means letting you finish your hustle doesn't it?”

“It means trusting me enough to believe I'm gonna do the right thing.”

For a little while Judy held him. It was a stiff sort of a hug, with none of the deep, nuzzley affection Nick had grown used to, but he could feel the warmth of her body. Nick could even hear Judy's heart beating against his tummy.

“I think... I think I can manage that. For now.”

“That's all I'm asking, Carrots.”  Nick squeezed her tight, but in a corner of his mind he hoped Judy would forgive him for what he had to do. “That's all I'm asking.”


	16. Preparations Are Finished

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Judy readies herself to learn Nick's secrets, Nick prepares to finish things with Shepsfield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part II of my flurry of updates as we reach the endgame. Please check the previous chapter first if you happened to miss it!!!

“ _What's the matter, Judy?_ ”

Mom didn't have to see the droopiness of her daughter's ears to know that something was wrong. Judy had already checked in with her daily Muzzletime session with her parents, but she'd texted her mother afterward to ask if they could have a little private one-on-one. Privacy was hard to come by in rabbit warren, but as the matriarch of the Hopps family Bonnie could always figure out a way.

“How's business with Gideon?” Judy asked, not quite knowing how to break the news.

Bonnie blinked. “ _Oh is that what you were worried about? Well, really great actually! His bakery is getting really popular with the locals. The carrot cake is his hot ticket item of course. You should visit sometime soon though, I'll bet you can give him some great pastry ideas from browsing all those fancy stores in the big city.”_

“That's great news,” Judy said with a smile. “I don't suppose you guys ever invite him over for dinner or anything?”

Her mother blinked. “ _Well why would we? I mean Gideon is a great business partner and all, but our families have never been all that close._ ”

“I just... well...” Judy trailed off for a moment. “I just wanted to know if bunnies could ever... _really_ get along with foxes.”

Her mother tilted her head in confusion. “ _Does this have anything to do with that fox partner of yours? Mick, isn't it?_ ”

“Well his name is Nick actually and...” Judy winced. “...Yes?”

Bonnie stared at her daughter for a good long moment from the screen. Then her ears fell back. Her eyes widened. Her chest heaved with one big breath as the sheer weight of the situation struck her.

“ _Oh... oh my stars..._ ”

“No, mom! It's not- well... okay, it _is_ just like that...”

“ _I need to sit down._ ”

“Take it easy, mom. Deep breaths.”

Bonnie yanked off one of the pillowcases and balled up the open end with her paw. For a moment she tried blowing in and out of it like a paper bag to help her calm down, but the attempt was less than successful.

When Bonnie finally settled in she spoke with one paw on her chest, looking quite flushed. “ _Oh my own daughter... a... a..._ ”

“Mom, please don't say it. I really don't like that word.”

Predophile, Judy knew.

“ _Well, I can't say I'm too surprised. I mean, farmgirl moving to the big city, she's bound to want to try all sorts of wild new things._ ”

“It's not like that, mom! Nick's a great guy. He can be so sweet and funny. But he's also just so... _complicated_.”

“ _Well, you're a complicated bunny yourself, bon bon,_ ” Bonnie huffed, shaking her head, _“I gotta admit me and your father can't quite understand half the things you do. But... you know we'll still support you a hundred percent._ ”

Judy smiled. It felt like the first time in ages.

“ _So how serious is it?_ ”

“Very.”

“ _Has he been tested?_ ”

“MOM!!!”

“ _Well I'm sorry, sweetie, but you can't be too careful! It's just..._ ” her mother sighed, “ _I really don't know how to talk about this without offending you, Judy. But there_ _ **are**_ _things to worry about when it comes to having_ _ **relations**_ _with..._ _ **unconventional**_ _mammals._ ”

Judy knew her fur was standing on end. “Maybe we should just not talk about bedroom stuff.”

Her mom readjusted her position on the bed. “ _Oh who knows, this might even be a good thing. With the new family planning laws coming up chances are he traditional warren family is gonna change anyway._ ”

Judy was surprised to hear it was really going through. Mammals had been talking about it for years. Everyone knew the necessity given the unsustainability of their population boom, but Bunnyburrow was slow to change.

“So mom... do you think it can ever work out? You know, between me and Nick?”

“ _Well you'll have to bring the young tod over first so we can get to know him. Though... let me work on your father a bit first. You know he's a bit old-fashioned,_ ” her mom smiled. “ _Did I ever tell you about your uncle Robert?_ ”

Judy shook her head. With well over four hundred aunts and uncles, not to mention in-laws, it was hard to keep track.

“ _He fell in love with a lamb from Greenriver. Kept it secret for a whole five years. Your grandfather threatened to disown Robert, but whaddya know, they kept at it. Your gramps came around eventually though. Sweetest lamb I ever met, taught me a thing or two about knitting. And let me tell you that came in quite handy raising you kids.”_

“I never knew.”

“ _Well you wouldn't. I mean after the divorce they didn't talk much..._ ” Bonnie perked up suddenly. “ _Not that I'm trying to warn you away from this! I mean... look, there are naturally going to be rough patches. Even if it's not a biology thing, bunnies and foxes are just raised differently. We don't look at the world or react to things in the same way. And that doesn't mean how bunnies or foxes handle things are right or wrong. You and Nick are just going to have to learn to communicate and trust each other in ways that more traditional couples don't have to.”_

“Yeah...” Judy murmured, ears drooping back even further, if that was possible. “I'm beginning to realize that right now. The gap is just so much... _bigger_ than I imagined. The fox way of doing things is to just _not_ communicate.”

“ _Whatever rough patch you're going through, Judy, just give it time and understanding,”_ her mother smiled then, and it was so honestly hopeful that Judy wished they were together so she could give her mom a big hug. _“You're a great judge of character, so I'll trust you on this when you say you and this fox are serious. You_ _ **are**_ _serious, right?_ _You're not just... experimenting?_ ”

“No, mom, it's serious,” Judy laughed, rolling her eyes.

“ _Well all right. I won't tell your father just yet, but I'll try to get him ready for the big news if you ever want to bring him over._ _ **When**_ _you bring him over._ ”

“Thanks, mom...” Judy smiled. “You're... you're really okay with this?”

“ _I'd be lying if I said I was_ _ **completely**_ _comfortable with the idea. But you know what Woodchuck Allen said. 'The heart wants what it wants.'”_

“Didn't he... uh... marry his daughter?”

Judy had never seen her mother turn a brighter shade of pink.

Judy hadn't laughed much in the past week, and it felt good to do so when she ended the call. It'd just been been so stressful worrying about whatever trouble Nick was up to. She just wished she'd understood what was so serious that he had to hide it from her, but not so controversial that he didn't have to break the law to get it done.

Was this about their relationship? Could it be something more mundane? For a moment Judy toyed with the idea that he might be preparing to propose, but as terrifying as the thought was it was just as absurd.

And of course there was still the possibility that Nick _was_ seeing random vixens behind her back. But while that was certainly more likely, Judy tried to put that possibility out of her mind. For all his flaws, Judy refused to believe that Nick was some little sneak who would cheat on her. She'd already made the mistake of jumping to conclusions like that once. She owed him one chance, at least.

He was just a little sneak who was running a hustle.

So Judy went to her closet and took out the purple blouse she'd gotten for tonight, along with a matching skirt. She must've tried on a dozen dresses at the shop. It wasn't as if she was a complete novice when it came to fashion, but after years of living as a tomboy it was a bit rough having to rediscover her femininity.

The sexier pieces she'd passed by entirely. Well, except for the one, just to try it out. Judy didn't think she could pull off sexy. Frankly the thought intimidated her. Cute and casual, that was the way to go, just a little bit more femme than the flannel and jeans she preferred. Nick liked fruity aromas too, so she'd gotten a peachy-pear spray to wear tonight.

The purse was also new, a necessity with the skirt. Judy as a bit surprised at how useful it was. She hated to admit it, but jean pockets could only hold so many things. When she first heard about purses getting popular with guys, she'd almost laughed herself silly at the idea. Now though she knew what it felt like to be a dude and suddenly realize the convenience of it. Much better to carry your stuff on a strap over your shoulder than to stuff it in your pockets and have it rattle against your thighs while you walked. Judy just didn't need to relabel hers as a “satchel” like so many guys did.

She took one last look at herself in the mirror, and mentally prepared for what was to come. One week, Nick had said. One week and he'd tell her everything. Hopefully, once it was all finished, they could move on from this together.

Judy took a few breaths to calm herself down. She tried to let go of her fears, all the nervous tension that'd been rattling through her head this past week. She had to trust Nick.

After all, she did love him.

 

~~~~~

 

“ _So you're really doing this, huh?_ ” said Finnick.

Nick had a new appreciation for the Bluetooth headset that Judy had gotten him for his birthday. Now he didn't have to hold the phone between his shoulder and the side of his head while his paws were busy. It let him keep his tie straight while he tied it too. Double-Windsor. He was an expert at it.

“Yep.” Nick didn't share too many of the details with Finnick of course, but they'd known each other long enough that Nick knew he could trust the desert fox with the broad strokes. Besides, he needed to talk to _someone_ throughout all this to stay sane. Someone that wasn't Charlie or Marcus: they saw each other's faces too much already. And certainly not Judy: this whole affair wasn't her fight.

Charlie was in place. Marcus was ready on his end as well. All that was left was Nick's job, and that had to be carefully timed.

The sun was setting, and a cool breeze blew through the little open window that overlooked the jungle, lush with the moist smell of the rainforest outside. White shirt. Dark brown jacket. Solid black tie. He was sure that if his mother could see him now she'd say he looked just like his father.

Nick on the other paw thought he looked dressed for a funeral.

“ _How much do you think we should put on a bet? Fifty-fifty chances of this working?_ ”

“The plan isn't _that_ complicated. Quite simple, really.”

“ _Maybe. But you know new hustles tend to fail on the first go._ ”

“It's not a hustle,” said Nick, opening his drawer and taking out the sidearm he'd requisitioned.

Dr. Therona had been right. After a week of training with a properly sized gun, with the lenses she'd recommended, that urge to flinch while he fired had diminished significantly, and his accuracy had improved by fifteen points. He'd gone to the less regulated shooting ranges though, the kind where no one asked questions and no one gave answers. If he had more time, he could probably learn to thread a needle with a bullet.

Eight in the magazine. One in the chamber. He only needed one, maybe two to finish the job. Though when he thought of Tommy's face he certainly felt the temptation to be more... thorough.

Just as Nick said. This was going to be simple.

“ _Nick, is there any way I can talk you out of this?”_ Finnick sighed. “ _You know, even if Shepsfield doesn't kill you, chances are you're gonna get your ass tossed in jail. Who am I gonna drink with then?_ ”

“That's not gonna happen.” Granted no plan was truly foolproof, but Nick was confident that this'd work. Having this beautiful tool in his possession... he'd never felt more powerful. Or more dangerous.

He held it up, one paw on the grip, the other to steady it. He took a stance to prepare himself. Perhaps it would've been good to practice while wearing this outfit: the way the cloth tugged and restrained him as he shifted was very different from how it felt when he practiced in his standard Pawaiian shirt. It felt different than it had on the range too: the weight was just a bit off. But it would have to work.

Frankly, Nick had been surprised when the ZPD let him take this home with him. While he was still technically an officer, a psych hold probably should've disqualified him. Thing was though that he'd never been officially diagnosed as unstable. And Conall didn't think so, certainly. That was the only way the contents of Nick's sessions would've been outed, was if the good doctor thought he was a danger to himself or others.

And it was true. Nick didn't feel unstable. He'd never felt more clearheaded or focused than ever before in his life.

“Look: I gotta go, buddy,” said Nick. “I need to finish this. And Judy is gonna be waiting for me.”

Nick slid the sidearm into his jacket holster. It was time for this to end.

He took off the headset and picked up his phone. For a moment he scrolled through the photos of Tommy and Ruby that Charlie had sent him. Ruby, the vixen that he'd let slip out of his paws. A gal who just wanted a normal life. Tommy, a son that he'd never known. One that he might just never get to know. A swimmer. An athlete. A clever little post-millenial jock. A sweet kid with decent grades, who had never hurt anyone in his life. Maybe someday Nick would be able to teach him how to play pool or how to count cards.

Or maybe not.

Nick was scared of course. Scared of plugging Shepsfield. Of failure. Of the potential fallout if things went wrong. Most of all though, Nick was scared of hurting Judy. But if he was still afraid of anything after the week of preparation and training, seeing those haunting images of Tommy Daywood's cheerful face gave him the resolve to push through it.

He deleted the photos with the app that Marcus had given him, scrubbing his phone clean of any connections to his son before the program itself cannibalized itself. If things did go wrong, the ZPD would be sifting through all of his data. They wouldn't find any connection between him and Tommy.

For a moment Nick considered calling Judy, telling him he loved her. No... no that wouldn't work. It'd sound too much like he was saying goodbye, and after losing it so many times already he didn't trust himself to keep his cool. Carrots just had that effect on him.

That bunny... she really would ruin him, wouldn't she?

He checked himself one last time. Cellphone. Keys. Wallet and badge. Weapon. And one more thing, almost barely noticeable and hidden in the front pocket of his shirt:

A single thin, blue strip, pressed lightly between two pieces of wax paper. These things were supposed to melt instantly, weren't they? Nick was a bit surprised it held up as well as it did in the humidity of the Rainforest District.

Nick flicked off the lights to his apartment, closed the door, and locked it on the way out.

The sky outside was growing dark. It was time.

 


	17. It Ends Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't turn out well. Not well at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned. Next update should be coming up later today.

Jared Shepsfield was terrified.

There he was again, that red fox across the street. Suspicious and shifty as all hell. Foxes didn't come to Flock Street. It was a place for proper mammals, not thugs and their goddamn Blue. No doubt that pred was another dealer, trying to poison the neighborhood with his drugs.

The claw marks over his eye had only just begun to heal.

Jared had seen glimpses of that fox: lanky and slippery as a shadow, always late at night. The bastard thought he was so clever, vanishing without a trace before Jared could catch him. Like a red ghost.

The damn tod tried to look casual of course: sometimes he'd be carrying a grocery bag, or a newspaper tucked under one arm. But it was obvious he didn't live here, from the way he just paced in that unusually nonchalant manner, glancing over his shoulder now and again as if waiting for something. It was all too obvious that he didn't belong. That he was plotting something.

Just like that Daywood character.

Not that the fox would've seen him watching... Jared kept an eye on the neighborhood with a pair of binoculars from the window of his attic. It was only when Shepsfield scrambled down to the street to confront the bastard that the greasy little Reynard slipped away. Probably heard the front door with those ridiculously pointy ears of his.

This time though after loitering in the neighborhood for the past hour the fox was standing right across the street from his house. Bold as brass, in a brown suit jacket and black tie, paws in his pockets. He was facing Jared's front door. Staring at his _property_. The fucker must've known that Jared had been keeping an eye on things. That he'd been the one calling the cops every night to get the patrols on his vulpine ass.

“ _911, what is your emergency?_ ” the operator asked.

“It's Jared Shepsfield, 2213 Flock Street!”

The operator sighed. He sounded as if he was bored hearing the same damn complaint every night. In all fairness Jared couldn't blame him. Every night for the past week it'd been the same thing.

“ _Sir, if this is about that fox again, I should remind you that unless you see a crime in progress or are in immediate danger, this does not constitute an emergency. The best I can do is inform the local patrol officers to keep an eye out._ ”

“Well haven't the nightly patrols caught any foxes?!”

“ _I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. Shepsfield. Now please, unless you have something to report I need to keep this line clear._ ”

“He's staring RIGHT AT ME from across the street! He's been skulking around my house for the past hour! I'm feeling very intimidated right now!” Jared snapped.

“ _Sir, please calm down-_ ”

“Can't you send Officer Swinton over to check in on me?” She'd seemed reasonable after all, very nice and understanding when she took his statement that awful night a few weeks ago. Swinton would know what to do about foxes.

“ _Swinton is assigned to patrol in the area tonight, but..._ ”

“Then send her over! I think that squinty little savage is here to kill me!”

That seemed to perk up the operator a bit. “ _All right, I'll send her out right now and inform her of your situation. Please stay indoors and stay on the line. Response time should be... eight minutes._ ”

Jared wasn't sure he could last that long. Glancing out his window again he noticed that the fox was fiddling in his pockets. Was it a weapon? Or the drugs? Jared couldn't be sure, but he knew damn well that whatever the fox was up to, by the end of the night _he_ was gonna be the vulpine's target.

Ducking away from the window, Jared scurried over to the credenza in his living room. Pulling open the topmost drawer, he took out the pistol he'd recently acquired. Disengaging the safety, he made his way to the back door. Maybe if he circled around the house from the side, he'd catch the bastard off guard.

If Swinton didn't arrive soon to provide a more permanent solution to this neighborhood's fox problem, Jared would.

 

~~~~~

 

Nick had expected Flock Street to be more active when he arrived. There'd been plenty of mammals on the subway, but the residents of Flock Street seemed to be staying indoors. It was about time for a late dinner for the diurnals of course, but when he was younger this was about the right time for some late-night romps around the neighborhood.

The layout of the neighborhood here was hideous. All those houses in neat rows along a perfect grid, each just about identical to one another with their pristine lawns and perfectly trimmed shrubs funded by HOA fees. Not even a single pinwheel or lawn ornament to add a splash of color. Happytown may have been as run-down a ghetto as they came, but at least it had personality. Leave it to a bunch of hoofers living in a neighborhood called “Flock Street” to follow the herd and stay as plain as possible.

There it was. Jared Shepsfield's house.

It really was no different from all the others, but for some reason Nick could feel the menace from the place. The hidden cancer that needed to be excised.

None of this had started with Shepsfield. This pile of tinder had been building for decades, but Shepsfield had sparked something when he attacked Tommy. At one point assholes like him would've just passively let the system grind away the dignity of innocent predators. Employers rejecting job applications just because their names had “Fang” or “Claw” in 'em. Real estate agents turning away prospective homeowners because they didn't like the shape of their muzzles. Cops cracking down on pred teens for smoking nip while letting their prey buddies off the hook because they “seem like good kids.”

Nick could still see the crumpled loan applications filling the garbage bin. Still feel the thick arms around his middle, hear his dad begging for mercy. He could still see the shame through his father's smile, as he treated his son to a Freezee that he shouldn't have been able to afford.

The social problems preds were suffering from? All in their heads, the pundits used to say. They were playing the species card. Holding onto a grudge that just wasn't justified anymore. All this Pred Pride stuff was just ripping off the bandaid as the wound was slowly healing. Why couldn't they just lie down and let society paper over the problem and hope it solved itself? Just suffer the humiliation and violence and injustice with polite silence for the years to come, and maybe the world would forget about the differences between their two kinds eventually.

How easily they switched gears though. How quickly they'd gone from pretending there was no problem, to saying now that the aggression was in their biology. That they were all drug-using, prey-mauling freaks.

Now they were coming out of the woodwork, just as they had when the Night Howler epidemic was going on. What once was a slow death under the guise of civility was now open and unmasked hatred. Predator thugs, they said. Hoodie-wearing beasts. Shifty lowlifes. Wastes of skin and fur.

Here. Right here.

Stopping on the sidewalk Nick slipped his paw into the front pocket of his shirt. The wax paper fell away, the strip was intact. Shepsfield hadn't started this, but Nick was sure going to end it.

He placed the strip on his tongue. It dissolved instantly, and the tingle spread through his mouth.

 

~~~~~

 

Peeking out from the corner of his house, Jared's unbandaged eye widened with horror as the fox consumed a strip of Blue. He knew it. He fucking _knew_ it! Fucking doped-up fox! This wouldn't stand. Not on his street. Not in front of his _house_. Not again!

Stepping out onto the sidewalk he scrambled up to confront the scrawny little bastard.

“Hey!”

The fox kept walking, his bushy tail swishing behind him.

“I SAID HEY!!!”

Stopping under a street lamp, he turned around slowly. A lazy vulpine smile spread across his face. His bright green eyes were half-lidded, like he was high. “Well helloooo there.”

“What the fuck are you doing here, _fox_?!”

“Wow that's polite,” he said, crossing his arms over his narrow chest. “What, you got a problem with foxes, _sheep_? I'm just heading down to Giraffa's Grille to meet a date tonight. So if you'll excuse me...”

“BULLSHIT! I've seen you skulking around this neighborhood these past few nights! What've you been up to? Selling Blue? Buying?! You know what happens to unwelcome foxes around here?!”

That fake smile crumbled away, replaced by a darker, more deadly expression. When the tod spoke again Jared could see the glint of pearl-white fangs. “Well aren't you paranoid? Besides, it's a public space, I have the right to be here. _Every_ fox has the right to be here...

“Even Thomas Daywood.”

The panic crested in Jared then. His hoof had already been tight around the gun, but with the police car and Officer Swinton nowhere in sight, he had to take action.

Yanking the pistol out of his pocket, he pointed it straight at the intruder. “YOU STOP RIGHT THE FUCK THERE!”

 

~~~~~

 

Nick's eyes widened. Holy SHIT Jared was packing heat?! When did he get _that_?! This wasn't part of the plan. Not at all.

Lessons that'd been hammered into him for years took over suddenly, and his paws shot up into the air. Nick crouched down, tried to make himself look smaller, less intimidating. No more backtalk now. No more funny business.

He could've just talked to Judy. He could've been having a nice night out with her right now enjoying some sauteed mushrooms over polenta, laughing over drinks. They could've gone to her apartment afterward and made love.

But no, he'd had to brood on all of that darkness and pain and injustice instead. He had to go on this stupid crusade. And now he just might die for it.

“W-wait...” Nick stuttered. His heart was beating so fast. The adrenaline from working himself up was pumping through his veins, but instead of fighting back his instinct was to run. Fucking hell: when it came to fight-or-flight his body was screaming for the latter.

He wasn't a hero. He was just a goddamn con artist! “Look, c-c-calm down there, buddy...”

“ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, FOX! PAWS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!”

“I'm a cop!” Nick pleaded, but he was indeed beginning to crouch down. “If... if you'll just let me reach into my pocket, I'll show you. Officer Nick Wilde, ZPD...”

“I DON'T FUCKING CARE! YOU FUCKING LYING SON OF A-”

His hooves twitched, and Nick darted to the side as gunfire cracked through the night.

Nick dodged behind the lamp post, suddenly thankful for his skinny build. Standing up on his toes he tried to make himself as narrow as possible as the bullets pinged off of the metal pole. Fiddling awkwardly in his pocket his fingers snagged onto the edge of his badge, and just as the gunfire stopped Nick swung out his arm and flashed it towards Shepsfield.

“I told you! Officer Nick Wilde, ZP-”

Jared didn't give Nick a chance to finish. He barely had time to turn as he felt the curved horn slamming into his side. Whirling, Nick collapsed onto the ground as Shepsfield circled back. It felt as if something inside him had broken, and when he lifted his trembling paw up he saw the blood spreading along his forearm. He'd taken a bullet and not even realized it.

Adrenaline was a hell of a thing.

“P-Please...” Nick begged, tears trickling down his cheeks. He scooted backward along the sidewalk. “Please don't hurt me...”

Shepsfield loomed over him now, and he reached down with his hooves, wrapping them around Nick's scrawny neck and lifting him off of the sidewalk.

“You planned to KILL me didn't you, _fox_?!” Jared snarled. “TELL ME THE TRUTH!”

“N-no! No I didn't!” Nick's feet scrabbled around, toes scraping only air as Shepsfield slammed the back of his head against the post. He was gonna die. He was gonna...

Despite the blood still trickling down his arm, Nick reached into his jacket. Somehow, all of the training he'd undergone came through just then. All of the practice, getting used to drawing a weapon in a split-second, paid off.

In one smooth motion Nick pulled out his gun, pressed the tip of the muzzle into Shepsfield's neck, and pulled the trigger.

 

~~~~~

 

“Your peach bellini, ma'am,” said the bartender, sliding over a champagne flute filled with a lovely golden cocktail. Judy sipped it. Fizzy, sweet, and peachy, with just a hint of tartness. It was nice.

“I'm probably gonna need a few more of these,” Judy sighed. Nick was fifteen minutes late. It was the worst amount of lateness in her view: a bit too tardy to be fashionable, a bit too early to make her feel righteously mad at Nick for dragging his feet. Fifteen minutes was just a horrible sweet spot that left her antsy and stressed.

She glanced up at the bartender: a female weasel with neatly groomed fur and bright red eyes. She wasn't pretty, but she'd evened out all of the scruff so she looked neat and prim at least. Pretty important when working at a posh new restaurant catering to the well-off twenty-somethings in the area.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Judy asked.

The weasel shrugged. “That'll be a nice change. Usually in this line of work all I get are personal comments.”

“What's it like being a weasel?”

The bartender blinked. It took her a moment before she spoke again. “You know. I don't think anyone has ever asked me that before.”

“Is that okay?”

The bartender grinned. “Of course. Well, it's probably rougher in a lot of ways when compared to most mammals. I mean, the general stereotype is we're all trashy criminals. Real bottom-rung. We don't even get the reputation of being sleek or smart like foxes. But at least everyone thinks we're less dangerous than them. Never hear about weasel conspiracies or weasel mobs.”

Judy sighed. “Yeah, I know how awful it can be for foxes, so I can imagine it's not much better for weasels either.”

“Life ain't no cakewalk for us vermin,” the bartender grunted. “I didn't plan on this as a career, you know. You think I wanted to pretend to polish glasses all day so I could listen to other mammals' problems? No no, don't leave, I didn't say I _disliked_ this job. Just...” she sighed. “When I was younger I wanted to be a dentist, y'know? Thought I'd be real good at it too. At my size, I could fit inside most mammals' smelly mouths pretty easily. Thought of me sticking my head into a big ol' tiger's maw scared the crap out of my parents though. Plus the dental schools rejected my applications outright, probably cuz of my name.”

“That's awful...” Judy murmured, taking another long sip of her drink. “Have you ever thought about reapplying though? I mean, with the Mammal Inclusion Initiative, it should be way easier.”

The weasel raised an eyebrow. “You're Judy Hopps, right? Bunny cop partnered up with Nick Wilde?”

Judy's ears perked up. “Do you know Nick?”

“ _Everyone_ knows Nick!” the bartender barked a laugh. “And everyone knows you too! First bunny cop, helped bust the Night Howler conspiracy, broke up the Lone Digger Massacre.”

The weasel leaned in close then, her grin spreading wide. “Plus you're the one who busted my brother. 'Popped the weasel,' eh?”

“Y-you're...” Judy's eyes widened. She glanced down at her bellini then, almost certain that something horrible had been done to it.

“Donna Weaselton!” the bartender said cheerfully, spreading her arms out. “Aw don't look at me like that, Officer Hopps. Just cuz I'm a weasel and you snagged my big bro doesn't mean I'd fuck with your beverage. I'm a licensed pro, after all. Besides, that asshole deserved it. Duke never even _tried_ to make anything of himself.”

Her voice dropped to a grumble as she went back to pretend-polish the cup she held. “Just wish he'd stop begging us to bail his skanky little ass out of all the shit he gets into.”

“Wow, I'm... sorry?” Judy offered uncertainly.

“Like I said, not your fault, water under the bridge, wish in one hand and shit in the other, whatever. Though if you _really_ want to assuage your guilt...” Donna gently nudged an empty glass towards Judy. She promptly stuffed a twenty in it.

“Mighty kind of you,” Donna grinned. “So what's eating your ass? Or do you need another couple in ya before you'll spill? _In vino veritas_ , and all.”

Judy's nose twitched. Donna certainly had an... _earthy_ way about her.

“It's just... all this focus on species is stupid. I _don't care_ if you're a tiger, or a bunny, or a stoat. I work with mammals of a bunch of different species all the time, and honestly I don't treat them any different from one another. I just wish they'd act the same for me and Nick.” Sure all the other cops knew she was capable, but it didn't stop them from smiling in that placating way, the way they would for a little cub in diapers or anything else that was cute. They often acted extra-helpful too, whether she needed it or not. As if Judy was incapable of doing anything without straining herself.

“Wow, you're even more of a bitch than Duke said.”

“Wh- what?!” Judy snapped. She almost bounced straight onto the countertop then.

Donna put her paws up defensively. “Whoa, sorry. I didn't mean it like _that_. It's more like... look, I know you look at the concept of species and think we should stop focusing on it. Well why the hell shouldn't we? It's the first thing we see. The problem isn't seeing or acknowledging species, it's how we react to it.”

“I... I dunno. I've been reading up on Katmatist philosophy...” Judy mused. She'd been trying to develop an appreciation for the culture the Kaplan twins came from, even if they weren't too religious. “You know, how they believe that the body has species, but the soul doesn't. So deep down we're all the same.”

Donna shrugged. “Who knows? Might work for some mammals. But the way I sees it... look, you know a few months back there was that Skunk Appreciation Parade right? Well turns out some porcupine got a bug up her spiky ass because no one ever gave _her_ species a parade. Started a whole shitfit because of it.”

Judy nodded. She was there for the whole debacle.

“Well what happened then is they decide instead they should mush everyone together, turn the Skunk Appreciation Parade into _Mammal_ Appreciation Parade, so everyone gets included right? Skunk, Porcupine, Fox, Weasel, didn't matter, right?”

“Yeah?”

The weasel unfolded her paws like a book as she continued. “Now what was the original point of the skunk parade?”

“Well... the skunk community felt they were often misunderstood. A lot of the time when one of them walks into a room all the mammals around them get worried they're going to get sprayed.”

“Exactly. So they wanted an event to get some facetime. Show the best of the skunk community, correct some misconceptions. Have floats and events and talks about famous skunk authors, scientists, doctors, politicians. Rallying everyone under one banner _sounds_ nice and inclusive, but...”

“That just made skunks fade back into the background,” Judy finished for Donna. “Just like it happens to them everyday. There's just this sea of hundreds of other mammal species, and most of them are prey.”

“Bingo,” Donna said with a smile. “The fact is, every mammal has a culture and worldview all of their own because of what species they're born into. That's not gonna change anytime soon. Erasing those distinctions doesn't erase the problem. It just hides the unique needs and experiences of everyone.”

Donna switched to another glass finally, before she buffed all the etched patterns out of it. “Frankly I'd just like to see more measures to protect equal rights and opportunities. The Mammal Inclusion Initiative was a great start. Plus an appreciation parade for each and every species. There's three hundred-and-sixty-five days in a year. We've got more than enough to cover all the bases.”

Judy smiled. She really liked Donna already. “You know, you're nothing like your brother.”

“Cast those words in bronze and I'll wear it as a fuckin' badge of honor,” she said with a grin. “Seriously, real sweet of you to say. So how's about another drink? Promise I won't piss in it this time.”

Judy's eyes bulged.

“I'm _KIDDING_!” Donna cackled. “I swear, I know us weasels don't have a great reputation, cottontail... but hopefully you'll learn to trust me enough to know when I'm joking at least.”

“W-well...” Judy laughed nervously. “That was a great bellini, so... sure. Sure, I'll have another.”

“Fantastic. Another peach bellini, coming right...”

Judy's phone rang.

“Hold up, I think it's my...” she hesitated to say “date” at that moment when it came to Nick, especially in front of Donna Weaselton. And indeed it was Nick when Judy answered the call.

“Nick? Where are you? I've been waiting for-”

A strangled cough came from the other end. “ _J-Judy... h-hard to... breathe..._ ”

“Nick?!” Judy squeaked. Her heart started thumping in her chest, and Donna looked at her, startled. Her paw brushed against something as she rose, but she paid it no mind. The sound of her now-empty bellini glass shattering was a distant thing.

“ _A-ambulance... p-please..._ ”

“Nick tell me where you are!” she sobbed, slinging her purse over her shoulder and scrambling out of the restaurant. The breathing on the other end of the line was getting more labored by the moment. An icy chill ran down Judy's spine, and it had nothing to do with the cold night air.

Nick was dying. Oh my god, Nick was _DYING_!

“ _Nick, PLEASE!!!_ ”

“ _I- I love you, Judy..._ ” his voice came in a hoarse, broken whisper now. “ _I... love you..._ ”

 

~~~~~

 

“It's done,” Charlie said as she slipped back into the van.

“Oi, think he'll be all right? Crikey but... I didn't expect _this_ to happen,” Marcus huffed.

“The unexpected always happens. Given our situation I am unable to help him myself. But the neighbors have been alerted and they are already assisting. I also I put in an anonymous call for an ambulance.”

Marcus typed a series of commands into his laptop. The viruses he'd installed would be self-destructing now. They would leave no trace behind.

“Well, aside from that little hiccup,” Marcus smiled, “Looks like the plan went through perfectly.”

 


	18. Fatherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The city faces the aftermath of Nick's actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue coming up either tonight or early tomorrow.
> 
> EDIT: Also funny coincidence: Just as I was writing his chapter at the tea shop a remix of "What Does The Fox Say" started blaring on the cafe's playlist. Totes appropes. It was amazing.

_“Mmm...” Nick sighed. Nice and warm. The concrete sidewalk had been so cold. And it'd been so hard to breathe. He could still smell the blood, feel the sharp pain of his ribs. Now though the pain was gone. It was warm, and even the wooden bench beneath him was comfortably contoured to his body. All he could smell was a warm summer's day: the air still and faintly dusty, but thick with the promise of possibilities to come. In the distance he could hear young kits and cubs playing. At one time he would've wanted to join them._

_The pillow felt so familiar too. Sure nothing could beat a freshly fluffed down pillow, or one of those memory foam things that gave the perfect neck support. Sometimes Nick would browse furniture stores and flop into all the beds they had on display just to enjoy all the new kinds of mattresses and the scents of fresh blankets. He never would've been able to afford any of it himself._

_And while all that was heavenly, Nick had never felt so comfortable and safe as he did now._

_A paw rested on his scalp, gently scrubbing his headfur._

_**“Hey, Jellybean.”**_

_Nick chuckled, curling up into a little ball. It'd been so many years since he'd been called that. At one point in his life he'd grown annoyed at the nickname. He was supposed to be a big fox, and being called by his baby name was just demeaning._

_Turns out, he'd never outgrown it after all._

_**“Something the matter?”**_

_Nick sniffled. Something happened, hadn't it? He could feel the ache in his throat, the tears beginning to well up in his eyes._

_For so long he'd tried to be a big fox. To block out the tears. Grown-ups didn't cry, he tried to tell himself. The world was full of sharp edges, and he'd had to harden himself against it if he was to survive. But that didn't work all the time, did it? It'd just made him cold and brittle, and if he was cut just the wrong way, he was in danger of breaking._

_Why did he feel so happy just to hear that voice? It hadn't been **that** long had it? He'd always been there for Nick._

_“I think... I think I just had a really sad dream,” Nick whimpered._

_**“It's all right, Nick. We all wake up eventually. Just let it all out...”**_

_A paw patted his tummy as Nick snuffled, letting the tears trickle down his cheek and onto the thigh he rested on. He'd forgotten how good it felt to let himself feel vulnerable again, to trust someone enough to cry._

_He didn't care now if anyone saw him. He didn't feel ashamed about being a flesh-and-blood fox for once. He just let it all flow out of him, and the first time in ages he let himself feel the depth of it all._

_“Do you think Judy would forgive me?”_ _Nick asked, scrubbing the wetness from his nose. Forgive him for what though? He couldn't quite remember. All he could focus on now was the fact that his cheeks were soaked, and the padded thumb that reached down and wiped away the tears for him._

_**“Of course. She seems like a sweet gal.”** _

_Nick made a soft choking sound. He wasn't sure if it was him crying or laughing. “Yeah... yeah she is...”_

_A pair of well-trimmed claws scratched him behind the ear._ _**“Not many mammals get to share their lives with someone like that, you know.”** _

_“I'm just... so scared of disappointing her...”_

_**“You could never disappoint anyone, Nick. Not anyone that knows who you really are. Judy's a smart bunny... she's able to see the goodness in you, even though you try so hard to hide it. She'll see it now too.”** _

_Nick swallowed. The lump in his throat seemed to shrink. Already he could feel the tears draining away, replaced by a new, fresh calm as the final shudders of his crying tapered off. The summer warmth was filling him, the paw on his head still scratched his ears now and again. He was starting to feel drowsy._

_“What if... what if I have that dream again?” Nick yawned. “I thought that you were gone...”_

_**“Don't worry, Jellybean. I'll always be here to wake you up if that happens. Now go on, go to sleep...”**_

_Sleep... it sounded good._

_Nick curled up his legs, letting one arm dangle over the edge of the bench. His tail flopped out behind him, and he closed his eyes, slipping back into the dream..._

 

Nick's eyes opened slowly, to the sound of beeping monitors, the sterile white walls, and the drip of saline. The blankets were uncomfortably thin, and the smell of antiseptic tickled his nose.

He looked down. His arm was bandaged, and the ache in his side was a dull throb.

Nick let his head flop back onto the pillow, flat and uncomfortable as it was. He sniffed, and he could feel himself beginning to tear up. For once though, he didn't try to stop it.

“I love you, Dad.”

 

~~~~~

 

_**CROUPER:** Good evening, I'm Antlerson Crouper, and you're watching 360 on ZNN. Recently revealed footage has provided more details on the attack last night. Jared Shepsfield, a controversial figure previously known from his encounter with one Thomas Daywood, can be seen here committing an unprovoked assault against our first vulpine ZPD officer, Nicholas Wilde._

_Mr. Wilde is best known for his role in helping to uncover the Night Howler Conspiracy, known also as the Bellwether Plot. Recently, Wilde was also involved in pacifying several predators who had become violent under the influence of the new street drug Blue in the Lone Digger Massacre._

_Last night, Mr. Wilde was on his way to a social event at the Jungle Row, when he was confronted and assaulted._

_Due to the violent nature of the attack captured on CCTV, we will not be showing the full clip. However, it is clear that upon initially confronting Mr. Wilde, a belligerent, some even say paranoid Shepsfield, pulled out a firearm that was later found to have been unregistered and illegally purchased. Wilde, apparently frightened for his life, raised his paws and attempted to shift into a prone position when a nervous Shepsfield fired._

_In the frantic confrontation that resulted, Officer Wilde can be seen making repeated attempts to deescalate the situation by trying to communicate with Shepsfield and display his badge. However, the ram continued his assault, at which point the ZPD officer had no choice but to draw his sidearm and fire a tranquilizer dart into Mr. Shepsfield's neck. Shepsfield subsequently collapsed onto Wilde, and remained in that position until the authorities arrived._

_When Mr. Shepsfield was revived, he immediately claimed that he had repeatedly observed Officer Wilde stalking the neighborhood for the past several nights. Much as with what happened following the Daywood incident, Shepsfield claimed that he was in fear for his life from a suspicious mammal in the area. The ZPD reports, however, that CCTV footage showed no other foxes in the neighborhood at the times that Mr. Shepsfield claimed._

 

“It's done,” Charlie said as she slipped back into the van.

“Oi, think he'll be all right? Crikey but... I didn't expect _this_ to happen,” Asner breathed.

“The unexpected always happens,” Charlie said as she removed the dark brown suit jacket and tugged the tie loose. Male clothes were so stiff and uncomfortable, and they restrained her movements more than she would've liked. It made climbing in and out of those sewers and wandering around those CCTV blind spots more uncomfortable, but luckily it didn't keep her from dodging out of sight every time the ram lumbered out of his front door.

She couldn't wait to get home... she was getting enough odd glances from her neighbors for dying her fur. Red simply did not suit her.

Slipping the jacket over its coathanger, Charlie hung it up next to the assortment of Pawaiian shirts and purple ties she'd borrowed from Wilde.

 

_**CROUPER:** When this footage was revealed, a representative from the office of District Attorney Tarquin Vash had this to say:_

_**JEANNIE ORYSS (front steps of the Hall of Justice):** “Mr. Vash would like to remind all citizens that in our great city all mammals are innocent until proven guilty, and that we must investigate this case with a fair regard for the rights of all, whether it is the right of foxes to go where they wish without fear of reprisal due to their species, or the right of mammals to defend themselves when they face what they believe is a legitimate threat to their lives. The good citizens of Zootopia can be assured that Mr. Vash is pursuing the matter with great interest, especially with regards to the light it now sheds on the matter of Thomas Daywood. Justice will be done as it must be done: with cautious deliberation and respect for the law.”_

_**CROUPER:** With us here now is Barry Urston, lead representative for the Downtown chapter of Pred Pride. Mr. Urston, thank you for being with us._

_**URSTON:** Thank you, Antlerson._

_**CROUPER:** Now, after seeing the footage, what are your immediate thoughts on this matter?_

_**URSTON:** It's horrible, Antlerson. Absolutely repugnant. The fact that even one of the modern heroes of the ZPD, Nicholas Wilde, can face almost being killed solely for his species... well, it says that we as a culture still have a lot of progress to make. I think many of those, predator and prey alike, who leaped to assume Daywood's culpability for his own assault, need to do a great deal of soul-searching. Even more, the hasty defense and almost sycophantic support of Shepsfield before this occurred reveals the dangers of herd mentality and groupthink. While it is true that all mammals should be considered innocent until proven guilty, we cannot allow ourselves to ignore our responsibility to investigate and pursue justice against someone just because they are of a more well-regarded species in the public eye_

_**CROUPER:** Well on that topic though, we still need to look into Shepsfield's claims that he saw Officer Wilde using Blue right before the assault._

 

“Couldn't you have gotten wintergreen?” Nick grumbled, sniffing suspiciously at the breath strip. “I hate peppermint.”

“I recall you liking candy canes just fine,” said Charlie.

“That's different. They aren't as strong,” said Nick as he sampled the little blue sheet. It dissolved instantly, and the sharp cooling flavor tingled on his tongue. He exhaled, and a faint minty aroma spread through his nose. “Okay, this actually isn't so bad.”

“See?”

Nick shrugged as he sandwiched another little blue sheet between two bits of wax paper. “All right, but trust me. Wintergreen is better. Kinda reminds me of a slightly minty root beer.”

 

_**URSTON:** Well hopefully Mr. Wilde's doctors will get permission to testify on the matter, but I suspect that someone of Mr. Wilde's reputation would be clean. Frankly, it sounds like just another excuse on Shepsfield's part to escape culpability. Much like his unfounded claim that he's been seeing foxes loitering in his neighborhood for the preceding week. If he was so worried, why didn't he call 911? Why aren't there any police phone records that show a consistent pattern of these fox sightings?_

 

“911, what is your emergency?” Marcus spoke into his headset.

_“It's Jared Shepsfield, 2213 Flock Street!”_

It took everything in Marcus to not groan in frustration. He knew Shepsfield was a bigoted old stickybeak, but he didn't realize his bleating could get so shrill either. He almost regretted suggesting they use his cellphone bug to patch Shepsfield's 911 calls to him directly, if he had to deal with this caterwauling every bloody night.

“Sir, if this is about that fox again, I should remind you that unless you see a crime in progress or are in immediate danger, this does not constitute an emergency,” said Marcus, trying to not sound too brusque. GOD but he sounded like an ass mimicking this Western accent. It was so nasal and just... eugh. People might've sniggered at his Pawssie slang, but this was like using the spoken version of Comic Sans. “The best I can do is inform the local patrol officers to keep an eye out.”

 _“Well haven't the nightly patrols caught any foxes?!”_ Great, up another few decibels and half an octave. Fox ears were just not built for this line of work. If Charlie weren't playing the decoy right now he would've passed this onto her.

“I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. Shepsfield. Now please, unless you have something to report I need to keep this line clear.”

 _“He's staring RIGHT AT ME from across the street! He's been skulking around my house for the past hour! I'm feeling very intimidated right now!_ ” Jared snapped like a frog in a sock.

“Sir, please calm down-”

_“Can't you send Officer Swinton over to check in on me?”_

Marcus froze at that suggestion. Well, looks like he was right after all. Rerouting Shepsfield's emergency calls at night _was_ a good idea. Who knew what Swinton would've done if she'd been called in? Probably shot Nick on sight, if her own trigger-happy attitude the other night was any indication.

“Swinton is assigned to patrol in the area tonight, but...”

_“Then send her over! I think that squinty little savage is here to kill me!”_

Marcus just had to grin. He wondered what Charlie would've thought about being called a “squinty little savage.”

“All right, I'll send her out right now and inform her of your situation. Please stay indoors and stay on the line. Response time should be... eight minutes.”

Shepsfield hung up with an angry bleat. Well, there we go then.

Marcus propped his feet on the dashboard and leaned back, tucking his paws behind his head. He'd given the bloody drongo plenty of chances to back out. If he did attack Nick Wilde it'd be all on his fat head.

And clear as day on CCTV, too.

 

_**CROUPER:** And frankly, even if what Shepsfield said was true, it didn't matter if Officer Wilde was walking around the neighborhood. Foxes have just as much right to exist in a public space as sheep do._

_**URSTON:** Precisely._

_**CROUPER:** So what do you make of the statement from Mr. Vash's office?_

_**URSTON:** Sober, balanced, and fair, as can be expected from the respected Tarquin Vash. But I also think it's very clear that despite his cautious, politically worded language, Mr. Vash intends to pursue criminal charges against Jared Shepsfield. Not just for the attack against Nick Wilde of course, but for the attack against Thomas Daywood as well. In fact, this evidence has proven a big boon for Pred Pride's activities. We are now seeing a surge in recruitment efforts to ensure true mammalian equality, and we're currently working on filing a civil suit against Mr. Shepsfield for damages against both parties to help pay for their medical bills, as well as compensation for any pain or suffering they've endured due to his vigilantism. _

_**CROUPER:** So in the wake of the Daywood attack, a lot of Shepsfield's supporters have begun crowdfunding campaigns on his behalf, in order to pay for any legal bills he may have to face. Yet now his supporters have suddenly begun to distance themselves from him. What are your thoughts on this?_

_**URSTON:** Again, this should be cause for some serious self-reflection and soul-searching. Mammals all across Zootopia supported Shepsfield because they identified with him. And frankly, so do I in some ways. This is because in **all** of us there are the seeds of fear: fear of those who are different from us, fear of certain species that society has conditioned to think are untrustworthy such as foxes and weasels and stoats. But much of that fear is irrational, and it is harmful. Not just harmful to the poor predators who can become victims of that fear, but harmful to the very mammalian and Zootopian spirit itself. Celebrating Shepsfield's actions was precisely the opposite of what we should've done, and I think now, with the true consequences of such prejudice come to light, we have a chance to grow from it._

 

~~~~~

 

The train came to a rolling halt just as the video ended, and Judy pulled out her bud earphones as she stepped off and onto the platform. She'd taken the day off, and was in a plain purple T-shirt and tight-fitting gray pants as she entered the hospital. She checked in with the receptionist in the East Wing medical ward, stuck the printed guest pass on the front of her shirt, and headed to Nick's room.

Nick was in the middle of a mouthful of hash browns when Judy entered. His green eyes flicked away from the TV screen that was playing the same Ewetube clip she'd been watching on the way here. He stared at her, swallowing hard.

“Carrots...” His mouth twitched into a nervous smile. “I... I didn't think you'd...”

“I brought you a change of clothes,” Judy said flatly.

“Um, thanks. So... they say I should be out of here by tomorrow. Aside from the bullet wound nothing was broken.” He raised his left arm, showing the bandage. “Mostly it was just shock, and the bruising I took from when the guy charged me. Turns out the police training helped out a lot in a fight like that. Until he landed on me, y'know.”

She continued to stare at him in silence.

“No sympathy points I guess?” he grinned nervously.

“A few...” Judy allowed, finally letting herself relax. She sat down on the bed next to him, looking up at the screen. Crouper was just starting with the Urston interview.

“What did you do to provoke him, exactly?” Judy asked, leaning in a bit.

“Just acted like myself,” Nick said around another mouthful of hash browns. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye when she furrowed her brow skeptically. “Really! It's harder than you might think. I mean, I've practiced for years to look as inconspicuous as possible, and I basically had to forget two decades of acting smooth so I could look as, well... _conspicuous_ as possible. I mean, there was a bit more to it than that, but it wasn't hard. Guy hates foxes. Lotta mammals do.”

For a while they sat next to each other, watching Urston talk. He really had a talent for driving a point home. He'd make a great politician, which would be great once Lionheart's term ended. Definite up-and-comer.

“Can you believe the ZPD released the CCTV footage so quickly?” Nick continued eating his breakfast. “Usually it takes them weeks to authorize it, right? Needs to go through all that review first.”

“Unless someone leaked it.”

Nick shrugged. Then in a split-second his gaze darted back to Judy's, and he caught the look in her eye. He nearly choked on his hash browns, and had to pat a fist against his chest and take a big gulp of orange juice before he could speak again.

“Y- you... _what?!_ ” Nick coughed. “Judy! Your... this could hurt your job!”

“No...” Judy murmured. “This could hurt my _career_. My _job_ is to act in the good of the city. And the city needed this, Nick.”

Nick's mouth had dropped open, and his eyes flicked back and forth, as if he didn't know what to think.

“I'm gonna turn myself in to Bogo tomorrow,” Judy murmured. She shivered... Judy did NOT relish the thought of having to face his bullet-eyed stare. “Don't worry about me though... Mr. Vash was really happy with how things turned out. The timing and how the video is shaping public sentiment right now is perfect, he said. I think he'll be pushing Bogo to just give me a slap on the paw.”

Judy sniffed then, scrubbing aside a tear. “Nick, why didn't you tell me about this? I mean, I don't know everything you did, but you _knew_ how I felt about the whole Daywood thing! I would've supported you! I might've even helped! Do you think my career is _sooo_ important to me that I wouldn't risk it to do the right thing?!”

“I... I didn't want you to take that chance, Judy...” Nick said in a low voice.

“Why?” Judy sniffed. “Because I can't _understand_? Because I'm not a _fox_?”

“Because he's my son.”

Judy's ears hung back so low she could almost feel the tips brushing her tail now. She brought her paws up to her mouth, and a pitched sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sob, came out between her fingers.

“Wh... Nick? Are you sure?”

“Ruby Marris... the one that got away...” Nick sighed, pushing the tray and the trolley aside. “I was eighteen, fresh outta high school. Yeah. High school graduate. Me. Can you believe it?”

He chuckled momentarily. “Well, I've been running small-time cons for six years by then, and each time I had spare cash on paw I'd celebrate at this diner. And that's where Ruby worked. We... got together. Dated for a while. But when she learned what I did, what I was doing...”

Nick looked up at her, and Judy could see the pain in his eyes. Despite how upset she'd been this past week, how sad and angry and alone she'd felt, she cupped his face in her paws.

“It wasn't anything big-time. But the real problem was that I couldn't change for her. I was too young, and... and dumb. And brash. And I didn't think I could make it as anything else. We broke it off, she never spoke to me again. So that night when you and me went to Alexei's Diner in Tundratown, Charlie snuck up on me in the restroom and told me I had a fourteen-year-old kit, that his name was Thomas Daywood, and he was me and Ruby's...”

“He was in critical condition then, wasn't he? They didn't know if he'd live or not?” Judy murmured.

It all made sense now. His outbursts. His binge drinking, depression, and pining for a family of his own.

“Oh Nick...” Judy whispered, wrapping her arms around him carefully. “Nick I'm sorry, I didn't....”

“You've got nothing to be sorry about, Carrots...” he said, patting her on the back. He was sniffling now too. “I could barely deal with it, y'know? And we'd just started dating. It just didn't seem like the right time to bring this up.”

“Do you... do you still have feelings for her?”

It took him a while to speak again.

“Honestly? Yeah. But...” Nick kissed Judy's cheek, and it was a warm, wet peck. “I didn't change for her, Judy. I changed for _you_. You're the only one who was ever able to make me want to be a better fox.”

She squeezed him tight, though still wary of hurting him given his injuries. Her quiet tears dripped onto hi shoulder, and Nick squeezed her back, rubbing his fluffy cheek against hers. He smelled so good, with that faint woody scent and trace of musk. His paws were moving lower, and one paw cupped her rump playfully.

Judy couldn't help it. Still sniffling, she let out a giggle, and pulled away just enough to kiss the side of his muzzle. She'd missed this so much. The playful flirting, the closeness, that sweet forbidden edge that gave their relationship just a hint of spice.

“Oh!” came a voice from he door.

The two of them glanced up to see a vixen staring at them, one paw raised to her mouth. “I- I'm sorry... I didn't... I'll come back later...”

Nick's eyes widened, and he reached out with a sharp yelp. “Wait! Ruby! _Ruby!_ ”

Judy felt like a teddy bear as he scrambled out of the bed, still holding onto her. His legs tangled in the sheets though, and he brought the both of them tumbling onto the floor.

“Oh my!” Ruby huffed. “I'll get the nurse!”

“No! Oof! No, really, I'm fine!” Nick said. Judy gently pushed out of his grip so he could get back up, though the first thing he had to do was pull the flaps of his gown back to cover the naked fox rump sticking in the air.

Ruby couldn't help herself, apparently. She laughed, and it was a soft, musical sound. Judy couldn't help but feel a touch jealous.

“I... heard you were in this hospital,” Ruby said carefully, blushing as Nick stood up. “And I saw what happened on the news. That bastard Shepsfield! He's just so... eugh!”

“Well, he's locked up and it looks like he'll be going to trial, now,” Judy offered, smiling. “Plus I hear Pred Pride is helping put together a civil suit.”

Ruby shrugged. “Yeah they gave me a call. I might just go for it. Tommy will need some time to recover and I'll probably have to find a way to pay for summer school since he'll be missing a lot of his classes.”

“Crowdfunding is amazing,” Nick grinned.

“Isn't it though?” Ruby smiled. “Though... wow I'd hate to ask if the two of you are...”

“No, no!” Nick said, dusting himself off. “We're not doing anything.”

“Not a thing,” Judy said immediately.

“Keeping it clean here.”

“It's a hospital, after all.”

“They have a maternity ward, thankfully.”

“NICK!”

It really would take some time before the two could come out completely with their relationship.

Ruby giggled, and shot Nick a knowing smile. “Well, if it isn't any bother... well... Nick, Tommy really looks up to you. And you too, Ms. Hopps,” she added as if it were an afterthought. “I was hoping that if you had time, and weren't really engaged with anything, you could...”

Judy had seen the look on Nick's face before. When he first hustled that elephant in the ice cream parlor, with Nick treating Finnick as if he were his own son. Now though, Judy knew the look was genuine. Relief, joy, and wonder at being a father.

“Yeah... yeah I'd love to...”

 

~~~~~

 

Nick adjusted his tie. He wished he had on something a little more formal, maybe the dark jacket and black tie he'd worn the previous night, though the former had a bullet hole in it and was ruined with bloodstains besides. Would've been nice to look a bit more like an adult rather than someone who'd lived on a deferred adolescence for the past fifteen years. But at least he was himself, and that was probably for the best.

He could feel his heart racing. Judy stood outside of the door, smiling brightly as she gave him a respectful nudge. There was none of the lingering worry or fear in her eyes now. She looked every bit that sweet, chipper idealist he'd first met and eventually fallen for. “ _Go on_ ,” she seemed to say.

He'd been waiting for this moment for weeks. Placing one paw on his chest, closing his eyes for a moment, Nick took a deep breath, and walked through.

And there he was. Tommy. He was a bit bigger than Nick had expected. But he was a teenager after all, not the ten-year-old self he'd been reminiscing about recently. His headfur was a bit scruffy and needed a trim, understandable given that he'd just woken from a coma recently. His whiskers were coming in nicely, and even after two weeks stuck in bed his frame was a bit more built than Nick's had been when he was that age. The kid was really into sports after all.

Tommy was fiddling with a pawheld game system when he noticed Nick. He put it on pause.

“Heeey,” Nick said as he sauntered in. “Tommy Daywood, right?”

Tommy's eyes widened. “Whoa! You're Nick Wilde! You're the guy who... Bellwether. And the nightclub thing, and... wow!” He clapped his paws to his scalp. “Weren't you just on the news? That sheep attacked you too, right?”

Nick laughed. He wanted nothing more than to just reach down and take Tommy's paw in his, but that seemed a tad too personal. With a great force of will he kept a respectful distance, the way a friendly stranger should. “Yeah. Yeah that's me.”

Tommy blinked, looking Nick up and down in his Pawaiian shirt and purple-and-pink tie. “Is that what you usually wear? It looks terrible.”

Nick grinned. “And I bet I know where you got that cheeky mouth from.”

“So what're you doing here?”

“Well... me and your mom used to be friends. I wasn't hurt all that badly so I thought I'd pop over and check in on you.”

“How bad?” Tommy pointed a thumb at himself. “Broken ribs, punctured lung, cracked skull, hemothorax.”

“Bruised ribs, bullet in the arm, almost suffocated under two hundred pounds of sheep.”

Tommy smirked. “Trade you the cracked skull for the bullet wound.”

“I'd be getting the better end of the deal. It was a through-and-through, not much muscle damage either,” Nick gave Tommy his signature smug grin. “Better learn how to negotiate, kiddo.”

“Shows what you know. Mom says I never used my skull anyways.”

“Ouch.”

The kit shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Am I a jock? And one of the best Freshman basketball players at my school? Yes, yes I am. Honestly I probably would've had to go to summer school anyway before all this happened.”

Nick pulled up a chair. It really was crazy how well they were meshing, and he was in such a happy daze right now. Frankly, it was getting hard to think up any more quips. “Well... have you ever thought about being a cop? There's gonna be some tests involved, but from the sound of it you'd pass the physical exam pretty easily.”

“Might be cool,” Tommy mused. “But what I _really_ wanna do is join the ZIA.”

Nick whistled. “Ambitious. Me likey.”

“Hey it'd totally work!” Tommy seemed really excited now. “I mean us foxes are built for that stuff aren't we? Sneaky, sly, super clever... totally built for espionage!”

He hunched over slightly, baring his fangs and extending his claws like a little hunter.

“Great, now you're making me wish I'd applied,” Nick chuckled and leaned in. “Well tell you what, the ZPD's got this ride-along program going, and I'd love to take you around and show you what cops do day to day.”

As Nick got closer though, Tommy leaned in too. His nose twitched slightly as he sniffed Nick's shirt.

“Hey, Mr. Wilde? You smell like bunnies.”

Nick blinked. “Oh! Uh, that'd be my partner. She's actually... hey Judy! Why don't you come in!”

Judy peeked in through the door, though the first thing they saw were her ears of course. When she entered she did so with a perky bounce, raising one paw and beaming with a cheerful smile. “Hi! I'm Judy! I'm Nick's partner!”

Tommy had gone completely silent then. He just stared at Judy, face turning a bright shade of pink.

And that's when Nick noticed a very familiar, very non-bunny scent in the room. It was the scent of a very adolescent tod, one who likely had internet access. Awkwardly the kid scooted his knees closer to his body, and rumpled up his blankets over his lap a bit more.

“H-hi...” was all he could manage.

“So I heard Nick mention the offer of a ride-along?”

“YES!” Nick snapped back to attention, letting out a stilted laugh all of a sudden as he got up to his feet. Oh god Musk Mask should be mandatory in all hospitals. “Yes! Yes, Judy! Let's take Tommy for a ride! ---Along!”

“Would...” Tommy said in a tiny voice. “Would Ms. Hopper be coming too...?”

Without a predator's sense of smell Judy hadn't noticed anything was off. She just gave him her usual cheerful smile. “Oh well it's Hopps, actually. And of course I'd be happy to...”

Judy blinked in realization then. She must've Zoogled it at some point.

Julie Hopper Takes In The Wolfpack.

Oh lord.

For only a few moments longer the three of them just stood or sat stock-still as the case may be, not knowing quite what to say or do in this awkward situation. Just as the smell started to diminish though, a knock at the door caught everyone's attention.

“Hey Tommy!” a tod about Nick's age said as he walked in. “Whoa we having a party in here?”

Nick looked at the other fox. He was a bit more thickly built, and wore a stained tank top full of holes and slightly muddy jeans. By his accent it sounded like he grew up in the country. His shoulders were broader, but his muzzle, splashed with a few streaks of black fur, was more squat. Yet as Nick examined the tod's face he stopped on the fellow's eyes. The other fox's bright green eyes.

Just like Tommy's.

Nick froze in place then, sifting through his mind for what _exactly_ Charlie had said. She'd said he had a son, right? That he and Tommy were related? He remembered Charlie shoving her phone in his muzzle, insisting he look at the photo of the kit, telling him firmly that he had a personal stake in the matter. She'd _really_ emphasized those things. But Charlie had meant Tommy when she said that, right? Charlie... she'd never lie to him. She just had some weird form of autism where she failed to pick up on double-meanings and...

And...

God damn it, Charlie.

“Dorian!” Ruby hissed as she rushed into the room. “Dorian what'd I tell you about popping in without checking in first!”

“Oh come on Ruby, he's my son! Just because you won custody of him...”

“Dorian this is a _hospital,_ ” Ruby said in exasperation. “Let's not talk about this in here.”

“It's fine, mom...” Tommy sighed. “It's nice to see him anyways.”

“I swear Ruby, I've gone legit! I'm doing construction now. Pay isn't real good and I share an apartment with a bunch of porcupines but... well it's an honest living!”

Ruby finally relented though. “Oh, fine. We'll talk about visitation rights later.”

“There we go!” said Dorian, leaning in to scrub Tommy's head with a paw. “Hear that lil' Biscuit? Daddy's gonna get to see you again on the reg!”

Tommy smacked his father's paw away, then folded his arms over his chest with a grumpy scowl. “Daaad not in front of Mr. Wilde! You know I hate that stupid nickname!”

“Trust me, kiddo,” Nick sighed, shooting a wan smile in Tommy's direction. “You'll miss it when you're older.”

 


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping things up.

The tea was untouched. The cherry Tigrian delights were left uneaten on the table. Nick just sat in his chair quietly, staring at the floor with his paws folded in his lap. Long minutes ticked by without either of them saying a word.

When Nick finally spoke it was with a deep, tired sense of resignation.

“When I first joined the force, I was nervous. Part of me thought, hey. This is it. This is when my life is finally gonna start. Sure I wasted a lot of years just wallowing in self-pity, just living from hustle to hustle. I mean it was fun, and it was exciting, but.. I really could've tried harder, y'know?

“But I saw what trying gets you. My dad... he did everything to try and make his dream come true. And everyone kept shooting him down. Every loan rejection just chipped away at his soul a little more. But he kept pushing. He kept trying to stay strong and live like an honest fox. Kinda like Judy, y'know? Guy didn't know when to quit, and when the world kept trying to grind him into the mud he just stood up and... showed that he existed. That he was a fox, and he was _there_ , and that he could play by the rules just like anyone else.

“When he died, it... it was unfair. Not just because a kit shouldn't have to lose his dad that early. It's... I was _alone_. Mom did what she could, and she was really great. But me and dad were just so close that in a lot of ways I didn't know how to relate to her anymore. So I started getting into trouble, and well... let's just say that when I started living the life, I don't think even dad could've stopped me then.

“But somehow I stumble into being a cop. I'm going legit, I'm one of the new rookies on the beat. And I'm thinking we have a nice dinner out right? But then the Lone Digger happened. These crazed preds were just tearing each other apart. There were bodies everywhere, the stink of blood and death and Judy just... she didn't _hesitate_ to charge in and do her job.

“Me? I froze. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. She and Benjy they were just such naturals. Even though they weren't in uniform they were cops, deep down inside. And when all this went down I didn't even feel like a rookie... I was just a fox who'd recently quit being a con artist. And once it was all over, once I got the stink of carnage outta my nose...”

Nick sighed. He looked down at his trembling paws. “I started to wonder why the hell I joined the force in the first place. Was it to like, live up to the stupid dream I had as a kid, when I wanted to join the Junior Ranger Scouts? Or... or did I join just so I could be near Judy? How could I protect and serve when my real reasons for signing up were so selfish?

“And then there was the whole Daywood thing. I could see _so much_ of myself in him. Kid trying to just live his life, when some bigoted asshole crushes his sweet little dreams. But the worst part was the world let it happen. That... that this was _normal_ to a lot of mammals. Hell, they were even pressuring the District Attorney to prosecute Tommy for attacking Shepsfield!

“Not like I was any better though. I played along with the rest of them for years. I'd _accepted_ this as normal. And even being a cop, being part of the system... I started to wonder, was I gonna end up doing the same thing? Profiling other preds? Or would I just hang back and look the other way when this shit goes down? Honestly if it weren't for the fact that I thought he was my kid I probably would've kept on going with that.

“But once I decided to do something about it... I knew I couldn't fix this as a cop. Not by playing within the rules. Because the rules... they might've been _written_ to cover everyone, but they weren't _used_ the same way when it came to foxes.

“So yeah. I lied. I cheated. I broke the law. Just like I'd been doing for twenty years.”

Nick sniffled then, and he pulled the red handkerchief out of his pocket and dabbed at his eyes.

“I'd wanted so much to make my dad proud of me when I was a kid. Be brave. Honest. Trustworthy. But after freezing up at the Lone Digger, hiding the Shepsfield thing from Judy, plotting behind her back... I... I just failed so badly. On all counts. I'm not gonna apologize for what I did. I'd do it all again if I had to. But everything I've done these past few weeks just confirmed everything I hated about myself. Not just the fact that the uniform doesn't suit me but... the fact is...

“She's too good for me.”

Nick buried his face in one paw, sniffling. “So... yeah. That's what I've been afraid of facing up to this whole time. That's what's been driving me crazy... that this amazing, sweet little bunny sees something in me. And... I don't think I can live up to be what she _deserves_. I might last a couple days, maybe a month. A few years even. But eventually... something's gonna break. Because that's what I'm best at, y'know? Just fucking up.”

A big black paw rested on his shoulder, and despite his initial reservations Nick was thankful for it. “I- I'm fine, seriously... thanks...” He took a wad of tissues from the box next to him and blew his nose.

Doctor Conall sat back. For the first time, those golden eyes of his seemed warm and friendly. “You know, Nick... one of the misconceptions about my profession is that I'm here to help uncover deeply buried traumas or delve the hidden depths of a mammal's subconscious. Granted a working knowledge of the mind's abstractions is helpful, but the truth is that my job is mostly about providing perspective.

“When a mammal in your situation has suffered institutional discrimination, he often begins to internalize it. He thinks to himself, 'Yes, foxes deserve to be treated like any other mammal,' but even as he demands that right for others, he often does so because he thinks he himself is too damaged to save, and that the world would be better off investing in those who aren't as broken.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Well that certainly hits the nail on the head.”

“Tell me, how would you feel if Tommy recovered from his injuries and subsequently killed himself?”

Nick's heart leaped into his throat. “Wh- no! That'd... that'd be wrong!”

“And how do you think Judy would've felt if you killed yourself?”

“I'm _not_ suicidal!”

“Aren't you, Nick?” said Conall. He seemed mildly amused. “I apologize if I sound overly frank, but in my experience it does more harm to beat around the bush with patients. Too much caution engenders distrust. That said however, you did do something very dangerous, goading Shepsfield into attacking you on camera.”

“At the perfect angle too,” Nick huffed, and he _did_ feel some measure of pride at that. It'd worked beautifully. Everything that needed to be hidden had been committed in the blind spots, everything that needed to be seen were smack dab in focus. Nick hadn't expected to grovel quite that much however, just flash his badge as the ram attacked in his crazed speciesist fury.

“It was a calculated risk.”

Conall tilted his head. “It was also the act of someone who felt like his life was worth less than someone else's, which is why you were willing to risk it in the first place. Now please... how do you think Judy would feel if you'd died then?”

He remembered what it felt like then, trapped under the ram's body, struggling to work his cellphone free so he could call her and say goodbye. Nick could just stare into his tea when he imagined her crying over his grave.

“There's a difference between me and Tommy though. He's innocent.”

“Time hammers the innocence out of all of us, Nick. And when that happens to Tommy, he will still deserve to be happy and to be loved. Why would you think any less of yourself?”

Nick mulled over that for a moment.

“You _are_ worthy, Nick,” said Conall. “So many mammals think the world sees them as a burden for their mistakes, but the truth is everyone shares the same flaws. Everyone. Or many of those flaws aren't as serious as most think, in the grand scheme of things. Frankly, all the fears and self-doubts you have are held by a majority of other mammals who live perfectly normal lives... simply manifested in different ways and degrees. The difference is in learning how to cope with them.”

Conall tilted his head then. “Though it certainly will make things a lot easier as foxes continue to be recognized as perfectly respectable individuals.”

“Like Tarquin Vash,” Nick murmured.

“Or Nicholas Wilde,” Conall added with a smile. “Trust me, many of the police officers I treat have similar self-doubts as to whether they are suitable for their jobs, and they haven't solved major cases or saved lives like you have in the last year. But if you want another reason to remain working as a cop, consider the example you're setting for a young tod like Thomas Daywood. I believe you and Judy suggested a ride-along?”

Nick chuckled. “Well, if he can keep his hormones in check.”

Conall nodded and scribbled onto his prescription pad. “I'm recommending a course of mild antidepressants, and that you find a regular therapist. Again, I'd be perfectly happy to fill that role if you consent. But that being said, I'm happy to tell Chief Bogo that you're qualified and fit for active duty once you've recovered from your injuries.”

Nick sat back, staring at the wolf. “That's it?”

Conall smiled. “You're not nearly so damaged as you think, Mr. Wilde. You just need someone to help you develop a more positive self-image. Besides, you need to be on active duty to take Mr. Daywood on that ride-along.”

“Yeah... yeah I do...” Nick grinned. Ruby had definitely wanted to reconnect as friends. And even though Tommy wasn't his own, he really was a great kid. Maybe someday Tommy would call him Uncle Nick. The thought made him feel warm inside.

Oh god, it'd been so long since he'd felt this good.

“The only assignment the ZPD gave me has been to determine whether you had any lingering post-traumatic stress from the Lone Digger, and I detect none. Besides, I doubt you would be luring sheep into attacking you again anytime soon,” Conall said with a coy grin. “If I might say so... you would make an excellent psychologist. It takes some talent to predict a mammal's actions like that.”

“The classic Sunk Cost Fallacy,” Nick smirked. “When a mark invests a lot into a deal, even something where it looks like he's being cheated, he'll generally double-down on it because he can't face backing out.”

It was why mammals kept pumping coins into slot machines or doubling down at the casinos. Or why they would keep funneling money to scams. Or sticking with weird cults.

Shepsfield's investment just wasn't money. It was the mental energy of maintaining his prejudices. He'd put so much of himself into believing that foxes were violent, drug-dealing thugs that the emotional cost of digging himself out of that position was too high, and that made him perfectly predictable. The same was true for a lot of mammals in Zootopia... this whole hustle was just the shock therapy this city needed.

“Strange, isn't it?” Conall said as he tore off the prescription and handed it to Nick, “That we'd rather run headlong into mistakes than admit we're wrong.”

“I spent years making money off of that principle,” Nick sighed wistfully. “So, I guess this means you approve of my actions?”

“I would be treading on dangerous ground if I did,” Conall said with a raised eyebrow. “Let's just say that I'm bound by professional ethics to remain silent regarding anything you've said so far in this office.”

“You know,” Nick smiled as he turned around and placed a paw on the doorknob. “I think I could learn to like playing by the rules.”

 

~~~~~

 

“We. Are. _Handling_. It,” Chief Bogo's's eyes bored into Mayor Lionheart's.

Leodore met Bogo's tense stare over steepled fingers. He'd never met a mammal with such unnerving eyes. It suited his job. Bogo may have been born to command, but Leodore had been born to _lead_. The city would survive this drug epidemic, he knew. But there was something else, something simmering in this environment that threatened everything.

If even half the rumors he'd heard while he was in prison were true, a storm was coming, and they needed to be prepared.

“Margot disagrees.”

“Director Seraphine has no place interfering in my department's affairs!” Bogo shouted, jabbing a hoof into Lionheart's table. Few thing upset the buffalo to the point that he would shout in this office. Bogo normally had a staunch respect for authority, but ever since Leodore was reinstated as Mayor his relationship with the police chief had been remarkably lopsided.

Lionheart reared up to his full height then, planting both paws on his table. It wasn't in his nature to get angry. He was an incredibly friendly and affable lion, deep down inside. He would hear out Bogo's objections, but he would _not_ have his decision on this questioned.

“You would do well to remember that Margot has worked _just_ as hard as you to protect Zootopia,” Leodore growled. “And she's been at her job longer than you've been in yours.”

“Her job is to protect this city from _foreign_ threats. _Not_ domestic. You let Seraphine bring her Agents' tactics to an urban population center and I promise you it'll be a disaster!”

“She's assured me that she'll follow standard police protocols.”

“And what assurances do you have that she'll keep to that promise?”

“Her _word_ ,” Leodore said sternly. This whole conversation was giving him a headache. He'll have to text Danny later. He could really use an opportunity to put someone in a ZPD uniform in his place. All fours preferably, so long as that fine-ass tiger didn't leave claw marks in his mahogany table again.

Mayor Lionheart sat down then, in part to hide what was going on in his pants now. “Do you think you can handle the Blue epidemic by yourself? Margot's forensic analysts reported there are at least _three_ different formulations of the stuff being distributed through the city now. That means three different manufacturers. This thing is spreading!”

“With all due respect sir, that is pure speculation. And even if that were the case my officers can manage just fine.”

“Your objections have been noted, Chief Bogo,” Lionheart insisted. “But it's my call, and I just made it. The ZIA will be taking a direct paw on the matter.”

 

~~~~~

 

Judy yawned as she got dressed. She was normally a morning bunny, but she just couldn't sleep well in Nick's apartment. The fox didn't even have a proper bed. When he first moved in he'd just borrowed a rickety but enormous old dresser from the bear who lived on the floor above, stuffed some bedding into the bottom drawer, and used that. Before they started dating the only times he'd slept on a real mattress was when he visited his mother or on those post-hustle bacchanals where he and Finnick would share a motel room with a few vixens. Nick and Finnick had been particularly drunk when they'd let _those_ particular details slip.

So Judy had fallen asleep cuddled up with Nick, curled up against his body. It hadn't been all that bad in the drawer at first. Strangely comfortable in fact, like a baby bunny in swaddling. But then she'd have to deal with him flopping around dangling one limb or the other out of the makeshift bed, or the weird snuffling sounds he made when he was in that position.

The sound of the heavy tropical rain had been different too, as well as the moist earthy smells from the jungle outside, laced with the faint odor of mildew. Not that Nick's apartment was filthy or anything. It could've used a little cleaning, but it was hardly unhygenic. Plus there'd been the sounds of insects and toads and... it'd all been so _lively_ , and just too much for her to sleep well through the night.

Nick poured her a cup of coffee from his special slow-drip brewer. Normally he liked it, in his words, “black as hell and twice as hot,” but he'd picked up some soy creamer and sugar just for her. The blend was much nicer than the Snarlbucks coffees she got: not nearly as aggressively smoky, and with nice floral qualities besides. Nick credited the slow-drip method. If her fox could appreciate one thing in life, it was a good cup of coffee.

“You know if you want met to sleep over again, first thing we gotta do is get you a proper bed.”

Nick shrugged as he buttoned up his uniform in front of the mirror. “Eh I'd planned to when I first moved in. But wouldn't you know I just kept putting it off... eventually I just got used to the dresser. Besides, you didn't have to sleep over, Carrots.”

“If I didn't I wouldn't have been able to spend the night with you,” Judy smiled as she wrapped her arms around his middle. His big bushy tail flopped between her feet. It was the only way she'd truly get a monopoly on his company for a little while at least. Everyone at the department was waiting to welcome Nick back. Clawhauser had been planning to buy a dozen blueberry jam filled donuts, Anderson and McHorn wanted to have lunch with them, and Fangmeyer and Benjy had invited Nick to go to the gym.

“Well I'd definitely say last night was amazing...” Nick sighed happily. “Though... you sure I didn't hurt you? I was... really worried.”

“No, I've been... well... practicing...” Judy blushed. The bedroom aid she'd purchased online was anatomically correct, and just about sized to match Nick's proportions. It'd taken a few nights before she could manage it completely. Nick for his part was caught by surprise with how comfortably she'd settled herself in around him last night. After an hour or so they nearly passed out together in a satisfied and exhausted heap.

“Heh. Well, even if we can't start a family together we can at least enjoy he process of trying,” Nick chuckled as he started to work on his tie.

Judy breathed in his scent. It'd grown so familiar now, the smell of fox. “Nick... I meant what I said.”

“That you've been practicing? I could tell.”

“No! That...” she blushed. “One of these days, if we ever wanna settle down... I'd. I'd be happy to adopt. A fox.”

Nick blinked in the mirror and turned around to face her. “You really mean it?”

“I know how you felt when you found out about Tommy's dad...” Judy sighed. “It... you seemed so... like you'd lost something really big, even though you never really had it in the first place. So I just wanted you to know that someday, once we get committed, yes. I wanna have a family with you.”

He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Thanks Judy. That means a lot.”

Just as he stood straight again Judy perched on her toes, reaching up.

“Wh-?”

“Just finishing up your tie,” said Judy, fiddling with the knots.

“You really dont-”

“It's fine! I've got a hundred-and-forty-one brothers. Had to help raise a lot of the older ones, so I know how to do a tie. Double-Windsor right?”

She tugged it tight. There, perfect wedge.

Nick stared down at his front. Then turned and looked at himself in the mirror. He reached up to his neck, paw exploring the knot uncertainly, and he adjusted it just a hair before letting his paw drop. He continued to stare at his own reflection.

“Is... something wrong?” Judy leaned in. It was just a tie, after all.

“Well it's just... y'know, no one's helped me with my ties before.”

“Oh.”

The look on his face was unreadable. He didn't seem upset or anything. Just... pensive.

“Um... Nick?”

“Hmm?” he turned around. “Oh, it's nothing, really. Just...”

Judy rolled her eyes. She knew when not to press Nick for the details. The last thing Nick needed was his girlfriend nagging him to reveal all of his deep, dark fox secrets.

It suddenly hit her like a brick.

Girlfriend.

She was his girlfriend.

Somehow in the past few weeks of drama and romance and salacious nighttime trysts their relationship had developed so organically that the word “girlfriend” hadn't truly registered in her head. And soon the word had been replaced completely, by a shrill and giddy _eeeeeeeeeeeee_ ringing between her ears. It took every ounce of self-control to not bounce around like she was in elementary school again.

When they stepped out to head to the subway the sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. A fresh, green scent filled the air, and the morning breeze tasted crisp and moist. It was gonna be a beautiful day.

And then Judy felt a big paw close in on hers. She looked up to face Nick, and he took off his sunglasses so she could see his eyes. That distant thoughtfulness from earlier was gone. Now he just seemed content.

“Judy...” he smiled, “I wanna tell you about my dad.”

 

~~~~~

 

Jared Shepsfield trembled. This is what he'd feared most about being in prison.

The bail hearing was a week away, and until then he'd be stuck in Highwatch, right alongside all these hardened criminals. This was some horrible mistake. It was some horrific joke that his life had turned out this way.

He'd only ever done the right thing. He'd worked hard, gone to a good school, kept the right sort of friends, stayed drug-free. And now, for some reason he couldn't fathom, he'd been thrown in prison because he'd tried to protect himself. After that drugged-up little sneak-thief Daywood tried to maul him. And that crooked cop tried to assassinate him.

Well, he wouldn't be completely bereft of outside aid. Before all of this went down his online supporters, through the “Keep Our Streets Safe” campaign, had blessed him with a total of four hundred thousand bucks to cover any possible legal expenses. They recognized his good work. Not that he was a hero or anything, he was just following the dictates of his conscience. But good mammals supported each other when the corrupt chompers in office conspired against honest sheep.

Until he could post bail though he would just have to tough it out.

Jared had delayed this moment for as long as he could. He'd pleaded with the guards to put him on the last shower rotation. He knew what went on in prison showers, and surely the tougher, meaner preds would've muscled into the earlier time slots and gotten access to all the warm water. The kind of preds who wouldn't think twice about bending a sheep over the tiles.

The other inmates stripped out of their bright orange prison fatigues with galling indifference. Jared trembled and fumbled at his buttons. For once he cursed his sheep eyes and their 300-degree field of vision. Strange that most mammals couldn't see anything near the backs of their heads. He'd heard of mammals “averting their eyes,” but never understood what that truly meant or why it would be useful until now.

Junk. Junk flopping everywhere. Tiger, lion, bear balls fuckin' everywhere in a big circle around him. And if the fuzzy tangerines bouncing around weren't bad enough there there the asses, all in motion so it was even more difficult to ignore. Jared just shut his eyes tight until the mammals all flooded into the shower proper, before he scuttled in himself with his soap and his washcloth.

When he finally entered Jared was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn't all _that_ different from the gym. Not rapey at all. In fact, the prison showers seemed even more orderly, with each mammal minding his own business as he scrubbed up. Besides, two guards were watching the twenty-odd inmates like hawks. No funny business would go on.

Jared huffed in relief, and tottered over to one of the free shower heads. Turning on the water, he let out a faint bleat. As he'd expected, the water was ice cold. Great. It'd just soak into his wool and leave him shivering for hours. Maybe he should visit the prison barber and get sheared after all. Might make the prison guards happier too... they wouldn't have to do so nearly as invasive a search for contraband as when he'd first arrived.

Closing his eyes, Jared let the water spill over his face. It was getting a little better, lukewarm really, but his skin still prickled at the chill. Working the bar of soap into a lather, Jared began to work the suds into his wool.

When he opened his eyes just a sliver though, he noticed two large, black shapes moving on either side of him.

Jared jumped, suddenly terrified as his mind conjured up the image of getting spitroasted by two panthers. But no... no, he'd be all right. The guards were right there after all, they've got their nightsticks or tranq guns or whatever. Things would be just fine.

“H-hey sheep...” the panther to the right of him said.

Jared ignored him. No, he refused to play the queer for some pred.

“H-h-hey... sheep....” the panther said again.

He ignored it, focused on the tiles.

“I said 'hey, sheep!'” The stutter was gone now, and the big cat hissed.

“What?!” Jared snapped, finally looking up.

The cat was young. Smack dab in the middle of his teens in fact. But despite his youth he'd had a rough time. His muzzle, chest, shoulders and arms were all marred by long pink claw marks. While the flesh had stitched up and healed, the fur wouldn't be growing back over tissue that badly scarred. He'd be wearing those long pink runnels for the rest of his life.

The kid must've been on the bad end of an ass beating. Or a savage mauling, probably by another pred hopped up on Blue.

Blue...

Jared's eyes widened. He'd seen that face before. It'd been plastered all over the news just a few weeks ago. But back then it'd been a Muzzlebook photo of some high school jock, sporting a cocksure grin and a varsity jacket. “Y-you're...!”

Though Jared could see the other cat moving behind him, the second panther lashed out too quickly for him to react. A thick, muscled arm wrapped around his throat, and lifted Jared off of his hooves.

“AAAAHHHH!!!! AAAAHHHHH!!!!” Jared bleated in terror. This was happening! Oh GOD this was happening!

“G-guards! Guards HELP!” he continued to bleat, but they weren't looking in his direction.

In fact, no one was looking in his direction. Every other mammal, predator and prey alike, even the prison guards, had turned away.

The first panther's paw trembled as he unrolled his towel, revealing a long knife. How'd they smuggle THAT in here?!

Gripping it stiffly the cat stared at Jared with wide, terrified eyes.

“ _NO! NOOOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! PLEASE NOOO!!!!_ ” Jared's bleating turned into pitched shrieks.

“Fucking do it, Milo!” the panther holding him hissed, grunting as Jared squirmed and kicked and scratched at his forearm with his hooves. “JUST DO IT!!!”

“I- I'm sorry...” Milo whimpered, the tears were streaming down his face. “I'm sorry... I'm sorry...”

Even as Jared screamed, even as the blade sank again and again into his body, Milo continued to apologize. Lukewarm water pattered against crimson wool, and red streaks swirled down the drain. All while the other mammals refused to look in Jared's direction, and the panther's feeble sobs followed Jared into the darkness.

“I'm sorry... I'm sorry...”

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn hummed happily to herself as she trotted back to her cell. Somehow, her lawyer had pulled through. The judge had deemed the audio recording inadmissible. Dawn wondered what paws or hooves had to be buttered to get _that_ done. Did the bribery get all the way up to the judge? Oh that would've been delicious. She wished she could've seen Vash's pointy face when _that_ decision was handed down. His house wasn't nearly as neat or prim as he'd expected.

“Thank you Cadence!” Dawn said to the tiger guard who'd escorted her back. Cadence politely tipped her hat as she left. Preds might've been prone to being outright bullies, but a few, like Cadence, at least had some basic civility drilled into them.

It was all coming together. The Zoother movement was still going strong: some mammals just refused to believe that the mild-mannered Dawn Bellwether could've orchestrated the whole Night Howler affair. Others believed it was propaganda from the Lionheart cronies, that all the mammals who'd gone savage were paid actors who were now in hiding. A rare few believed Lionheart himself had ordered the preds to be darted in some convoluted scheme to remove Bellwether from office.

It was all madness of course. Dawn could never understand how such conspiracy theories came about, but they'd certainly be useful when it came to jury selection for her trial.

“Mmph... Dawn...” her cell mate shifted on the top bunk. Carla was a llama, and Dawn was glad for that. She couldn't be bunked up with a pred species, certainly. They would've torn her to bits. Being put in the same cell as a fellow ungulate had been such a relief, even if Carla was in here for murdering her ex-husband. The llama craned her long neck over the edge of the bed.

“How'd it go?”

“Better than expected,” Dawn said cheerfully.

“Wish I had a lawyer like yours back in the day,” Carla grumbled as she climbed down from her bunk.

“Trust me, you don't.”

Dawn hopped up onto the stool to get to the sink and started to wash her hooves. The defense attorney she'd hired was a weasel. While he was well-groomed and articulate, Dawn couldn't help but feel a mild sense of disgust every time she had to touch something he handed her. Still, he was talented, and came at high cost. Dawn didn't expect to have all the charges overturned _completely_ of course, but with a little luck they'd be able to shift most of the blame to Doug.

Accessory to the crime would probably get her two, three years in prison, tops. Maybe even early time out for good behavior. She was, after all, a well-respected member of the sheep community.

“Hey Dawn? You know I got a kid, right?”

The former Mayor looked up at the mirror to make eye contact with her cellmate's reflection. “Oh. No, I didn't know that.”

“Yeah. Little Marjorie. Well, not so little now, she's celebrating her seventeenth birthday in a month.”

Dawn smiled as she dried off her hooves. “Well I wish her the best.”

“It's tough for a gal, not having a mother around. Plus college is just so damn expensive these days.”

“Well, I can recommend some very good scholarship and academic loan programs,” Dawn said as she hopped off the stool, trotting over to her bed. As Assistant Mayor she'd helped write up most of those policies herself. She began to fluff up her pillow.

“No. No, I don't think that'll be necessary.”

Carla's voice had taken a hard edge, and when Dawn turned around she saw the shank in her hoof, and the grim, determined look in her eye.

“N-no! Carla! Carla you can't...!” Dawn let out a terrified bleat.

“Sorry, Bellwether. This ain't personal. But I gotta do this for my baby girl...”

“No! GUARD! GUAAAAARD!”

A hoof shot out and grabbed the smaller lamb by the neck. As Carla pinned Dawn against her mattress, she slid the tip of the makeshift blade along the former Mayor's face.

“Your mistake was crossing Nick Wilde...”

Dawn's shrieks rang through the cell block.

 

~~~~~

 

“It's done.”

He looked at the Prodigal who delivered the message. In one paw he held a glass of cabernet sauvignon, aged in his private cellars. He'd bought a case of this wine fifty years ago, after a summer that'd been blessed with healthy rains and mild heat. It was supposed to be the finest vintage in the past century from the region. Perfect for this moment.

He swirled the glass. In the dim light of the room it looked like blood.

He twined the chain in his other paw. The end snaked down along the naked back of his pet bunny, and connected to the silver collar at the little buck's throat. Just one of his pet bunnies. He'd once regarded this as the finest specimen in his collection, the Opal Oak breed, with its nut-brown coat, and the downy fur lining the insides of its ears iridescent like abalone shells.

He gave the chain a little tug, and the bunny gazed up at him with a sweet, fawning look. Nuzzling deep between his legs, his pet made a happy, cooing sound. The rabbit began to kiss his master's inner thighs, and those delicate paws began to undo his belt.

“Have Sebastian make the preparations,” said the Prince. The wine had a sweet herbacious aroma drifting over its oaky undertones, and the lingering body held a certain... fleshiness on his palate.

“It's time for us to return to the City.”

 

  
END OF PART 1

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! SilverStripes here! I just wanted to thank everyone for joining me in this literary journey. I've been doing writing for several years now, but this was the first time I did anything furry. Which, I have to admit, made me rather nervous at first. Just some thoughts on It's A Fox Thing:
> 
> First, I'm not quite accustomed to writing romance or tragedy/angst, but I pushed for my best, especially when it came to Nick reminiscing/dreaming about his dad. This has been a real learning experience, and I hope I did well there. Any comments or criticisms would be appreciated.
> 
> As I mentioned in an earlier set of chapter notes, writing a hustle scene is HARD. I tried to draw inspiration from old heist movies like Ocean's Eleven. This one was incredibly basic because I'm a novice at this, but I needed to craft a solid logic to the plan while at the same time preventing that logic from being too clear with a lot of misdirection. Very fun, but quite difficult.
> 
> Some people wanted to contact me more directly so I just started a tumblr, https://silverstripeszoot.tumblr.com/ , that I'll be using in parallel with AO3 (as of this writing it's completely empty but I'll fix that). So if anyone wants to message me they can do so there. I'm also available on Skype, under the sn "rarghl"
> 
> I realize that at some points the social commentary may have been a bit too on-the-nose, but frankly given the social and political climate in the US right now, this work was partly me needing to vent. People have asked if I wrote this from personal experience. No... no I've never experienced this kind of discrimination before, so don't worry about me. But it really upsets me that other people do. I did as much research as I could and tried to translate some of that to Zootopia which I felt did a great treatment of the subject but was also a bit too optimistic in many ways. IMO the uncovering of Bellweather's role in the Night Howler Conspiracy, and Nick's hustle won't be solving anti-pred/anti-fox racism anytime soon. But it'll definitely help wake up some sectors of the populace. Though it may also cause others to entrench themselves further in their beliefs (hence the Zoother movement).
> 
> Yes, there will definitely be a sequel. I've been doing a lot of planning and it's going to be much darker, much longer, much more elaborate, and involve a bigger cast of characters. It'll be a few months before I publish anything though... my habit is to create a backlog of writing so I can still make regular postings even when I'm not actively writing. But I also need to work on the profiles of certain major characters.
> 
> Please provide comments or critiques below. I seriously live off of them and it helps push me to get my ass into gear. And DO check the comments below now and again! I may temporarily post a preview of the upcoming sequel as a sneak peek in the coming week or so. Ciao!


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